


Of Butterflies in a Hurricane

by silver_etoile



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Character Death, Drama, Explicit Language, M/M, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-27
Updated: 2008-01-31
Packaged: 2018-08-19 14:58:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 33
Words: 93,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8213302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_etoile/pseuds/silver_etoile
Summary: After Dumbledore's death and Draco's disappearance, Harry knows what he has to do. He must find and save his boyfriend while concealing the relationship, destroy the Horcruxes that will ultimately help him destroy Voldemort, and deal with his grief.  With Ron and Hermione by his side, he may just have a chance. ~Sequel to Falling Away with You~





	1. Of Butterflies in a Hurricane

**Disclaimer:** I solemnly swear that I do not own Harry Potter and/or any other characters used in this fic. They are all property of J.K. Rowling.

A/N: This fic picks up directly where HBP left off. It is 99.5% HBP compliant, subtracting a few details, such as R.A.B. If you haven't read _Falling Away with You_ , I would highly recommend it. Otherwise, you will probably be very confused immediately after reading the first line ;)

If this fic hasn't been completely posted by the time the seventh book is released, I want you to know that it's already been completely written for me. So, let's not accuse me of stealing ideas, should that happen, alright?

One last thing, a big thanks to my beta for this fic, Artificer!

~~**~~

"Draco?" A tentative voice crept through the dark trees. A light breeze whipped through the branches, continuing down to ripple the surface of the lake.

A dark figure crept through the bushes that curled around the base of the trees outlining a dark forest. A wand was held tightly in his fist, though it hung down by his side. The figure moved further forward cautiously, head turning in all directions, as though searching for someone.

"Draco," the voice called, more insistently.

The dark trees creaked ominously as they swayed with the wind. There was a rustling in the brush and the figure stiffened in the darkness, raising his wand higher.

Without a word, the wand tip ignited. Its light swept over the features of a tall, pale boy standing only a few feet from the wand holder. The boy smirked at the figure and there was a relieved sigh.

The wand was lowered as a crackling filled the air. A tiny, blue fire sprang up and was placed into a jar, which was then set on the ground. The two boys stood looking at each other for a moment, not saying anything.

Then the one who had been holding the wand dropped it to his side and moved swiftly forward, pulling the other boy to him. He wasted no time in pressing his lips against the other's; it was a harsh, needy kiss. It was returned in full force by the pale boy, his hands slipping around the other's waist.

It was soon broken, though they didn't move apart. The dark-haired boy pulled the other boy closer, burying his face in his neck.

"I thought you weren't coming," he whispered against the soft skin, placing a kiss just below the boy’s ear.

There was a soft sigh, lost in the wind that whipped up around them. "I always come, Harry."

Harry's grip tightened around the boy in his arms, as if he might disappear if he let go. Draco relaxed into the grip, loving the way it felt. They stood like that for a while, listening to the rustling of the leaves on the trees.

The dark lake rippled as the wind blew over it. Around them, there was no sound of life. The sky was star-strewn and nearly pitch black. The moon was barely a sliver that night.

Finally, Harry released the boy and they both sat down next to the bright blue fire that flickered inside the glass jar. Draco scooted closer to Harry, a feeling of elated satisfaction flooding his body when Harry's arm slipped around his waist to pull him even closer.

Together, they stared out at the black lake, across to where the castle stood. There were no lights flickering in its windows. Imprinted against the sky, it rose; a symbol of strength and protection.

Beside him, Harry shifted slightly and Draco looked at him. Harry was staring at the fire as it crackled and danced.

"What?" Draco asked him slowly, knowing something was up.

"Nothing," Harry replied quietly.

"No, what?" Draco pressed.

Harry sighed softly and bit his lower lip. "You're still working on that cabinet, aren't you?"

Draco paused. He had told Harry several weeks ago about his previous mission, and Harry had finally accepted his promise. He had thought that maybe they were past the questioning stage.

"I have to," he said quietly. "They have to keep thinking that I'm working on it."

"Can't you just tell Dumbledore? He'll give you protection," Harry said, looking at Draco pleadingly.

"I can't. He'll find out and then he'll kill me and my mother."

"But you could be safe. Draco, don't you want to be safe?"

"Yes, Harry, I do. But there are just some things that won't work."

Harry looked at Draco, fighting back the tears that wanted so desperately to fall. He knew Draco was probably right, but he still felt that something could be done. He swallowed the lump that had risen in his throat, looking away from Draco and back to the fire.

The flames reflected in his emerald green eyes. He just wanted to know that Draco was safe. He cared so much for him, enough even to accept that he wasn't lying about deciding not to complete his mission.

He couldn't help as a single tear fell down his face, trickling over his cheek. He felt a soft, warm finger on his cheek, wiping away the tear. He looked over to see Draco with his hand outstretched. Harry tried to smile but was unable to. 

Draco gave him a sad smile and moved forward, pressing a soft kiss to Harry’s lips. His hand slipped from his cheek to around his neck. Draco moved forward, straddling Harry's lap, still giving him light kisses.

Harry leaned back slowly and his back soon hit the cold, hard ground. Draco's tongue flicked out and over his lower lip, requesting permission to deepen the kiss. Harry allowed this, opening his mouth slightly, letting the tongue dip into his mouth, tentatively tasting him.

The kiss was long and slow, Draco taking his time to map out the contours of Harry's sweet mouth. His hand caressed the back of Harry's neck softly, running up and into his messy black hair.

Harry's hand traveled over Draco's back, holding onto him tightly. He never wanted to leave this, never stop it. He wished time would stop like this all the time. When he was with Draco, it felt like time did indeed stop.

The kiss continued, feeling as if it would go on forever. It was a loving kiss, not harsh or needy as their first had been that night. It was soft and careful, caressing and sweet. Draco's tongue moved slowly within Harry's mouth. 

Suddenly, Draco was yanked from atop him. Harry sat up quickly, panic gripping his insides. He looked up to see Draco being dragged away by Snape and into the trees.

Harry jumped to his feet and watched as Draco struggled to release himself from Snape's grip.

"Let go of me!" Draco yelled, twisting violently in the professor's grip. 

Snape refused to let go, tightening his hold on the struggling boy. "Draco! We must go. What have you been doing with him? Have you forgotten your mission?!"

Draco didn't appear to be listening as Snape dragged him further away from where Harry stood rooted to the ground. Harry soon came to his senses and jumped after them.

"Draco!" he shouted, as Snape pulled Draco off his struggling feet and heaved him towards the forest. "Draco!"

"Harry!" A voice reached his ears as Draco was whipped out of sight. "Harry! Don't let him take me!"

"Draco!" Harry yelled, panic rising in his chest as he tried to plunge after them, only to be prevented by the angry brambles curling around his legs and snagging his cloak.

" _Harry!_ "

Harry ripped his cloak from the thorns and tried to follow in the shadowed darkness of the forest, listening as Draco's cries became fainter with each passing second.

"Harry!"

"I'm coming!" Harry shouted, looking around, having no idea where they had gone. Everything was black around him.

"Harry... Harry..." He heard the voice becoming fainter and then clearer again. "... Harry... Harry, wake up."

Harry jerked awake, panting hard; sweat drenched his entire body. He looked around him, realizing where he was. A brilliant orange met his eyes as he blinked, the bright sunlight streaming in through the windows.

Ron was sitting next to his bed, looking concerned. Harry reached up and quickly wiped the sweat from his forehead, trying to calm his thundering heart.

"A-are you okay, mate?" Ron asked cautiously.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Harry muttered, not looking at him. 

Ron didn't say anything for a moment, but finally stood up and moved back. "Well, Mum says you need to be ready by eleven this morning for the wedding. Fleur is in a right state about everything. I reckon she might just explode by the time the day is over."

Harry nodded vaguely, not really listening. His mind was dwelling on the dream once more. He'd had the same dream for the past few weeks, always waking covered in sweat and heart pounding.

"Alright, mate, I'm gonna go downstairs. There's breakfast ready if you want... Uh... see you later." Ron backed away from the bed and left through the door. He emerged and came face-to-face with Hermione, who had been waiting anxiously. Ron shook his head, and she looked even more worried, casting a glance at the door before turning with Ron and going down to breakfast.

When the door clicked shut, Harry let out a small sigh of relief. He felt horrible not being able to explain this to his best friends. He sat up and swung his legs over the bed, sliding to his feet and padding over to where his trunk sat near the foot of his bed.

He glanced around carefully to make sure that no one was there, then flipped the lid open. He reached in and pulled out a large stone basin. He brought it over to his bed and placed it on it. He crawled back and sat, cross-legged, facing the basin.

He watched the top of the basin, white and glassy looking, swirls of fog shimmering in the light from the sun. Harry reached over for his wand and prodded the substance, watching as it began to swirl faster, finally settling down.

Harry peered inside it, hoping to see something useful. It was merely an empty classroom with a student serving a detention, hunched over a desk and writing something. Harry couldn't recognize the student from above, but that didn't matter anyway.

He sighed again, disappointed, and got off the bed. He picked up the Pensieve, the image immediately vanishing into swirling memories, and put it back into his trunk.

Ever since he had received Dumbledore's Pensieve, only a few weeks previously, he had been taking it out and hopefully poking the memories, hoping to find something to help him. So far, he had been unsuccessful.

He wondered if maybe there was nothing in there to help him. Perhaps Dumbledore had shown all the memories he needed, and the rest were just random recollections. Then again, Dumbledore would not have left it in his will for it to be given to Harry without a reason.

Harry wished he knew better how to use it as he locked his trunk. He was becoming quite desperate to find out more in order to complete his part in the prophecy. As he turned away from his trunk, he caught sight of something that had fallen out of it.

He bent down and picked it up, his heart giving a wrenching tug as he realized what it was. A silver bracelet adorned with a small green serpent that slithered around it lay in his hand. He had to force himself to remain calm.

Draco had given it to him mere days before everything had fallen apart. He had told him it would protect him and help him. He had told Harry that he was always with him.

Harry bit his lip hard to stop the tears that were welling up in his eyes once more. He took the bracelet and slipped it on his arm, where it glowed a dark green and conformed to the perfect size of his wrist.

The tiny snake hissed as Harry ran a finger over its cold scales. He sighed and walked over to the window. Below him, he could see that most of the family was outside, setting up tables and chairs for the wedding.

Pink roses were dotted here and there on small tables covered in white linen. A large archway covered in roses was being erected at the end of a long aisle. Mr. Weasley and Charlie were trying to hold it up while Mrs. Weasley fussed about its location.

Harry turned away as Mrs. Weasley turned and glanced up at Ron's window. He moved swiftly back and changed his clothes, preparing for a long day.

When he was finally ready, he took a deep breath and walked to the door, pushing it open and disappearing down the steps.

 

~~**~~

A/N: Please review!


	2. Of Butterflies in a Hurricane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After Dumbledore's death and Draco's disappearance, Harry knows what he has to do. He must find and save his boyfriend while concealing the relationship, destroy the Horcruxes that will ultimately destroy Voldemort, and deal with his grief. With Ron and Hermione by his side, he may just have a chance. ~Sequel to Falling Away with You~

  
Author's notes: After Dumbledore's death and Draco's disappearance, Harry knows what he has to do. He must find and save his boyfriend while concealing the relationship, destroy the Horcruxes that will ultimately destroy Voldemort, and deal with his grief. With Ron and Hermione by his side, he may just have a chance. ~Sequel to Falling Away with You~

~Sequel to Falling Away with You~  


* * *

*

 

Harry padded down the stairs slowly, listening closely for any sounds of people talking. At the bottom of the stairs, he met Ginny. There was an awkward silence that passed between the two as they stood; Harry on the stairs and Ginny in the doorway.

Harry was just thinking up something to say when Hermione came rushing over, perhaps having seen what was occurring.

"Harry, there you are. There’s breakfast on the table, and Mrs. Weasley says she needs everyone's help in the back to set up," she said quickly.

"Sure, Hermione," he said and allowed her to steer him away from where Ginny still stood, staring after them. Harry felt another twinge of guilt as he left her. He had dated her only as a cover up for his and Draco's relationship.

He had used Dumbledore's death as an excuse to break up with her at the end of last term. Since then, she had seemed overly suspicious of his actions. He hoped that she was just counting it as grief for Dumbledore and anger at Snape.

He felt bad for using her, but no one could have known what was happening between him and Draco. He told Ron and Hermione nearly everything, but even they didn't know of him. He felt they would want to AK Draco as soon as they laid eyes on him.

Harry's account of Dumbledore's death had left a few gaps about Draco's part in it. He wasn't sure if Hermione had believed it all to be the truth. Ron had accepted it right away and had no trouble in abusing Snape, though he did it quietly, so as not to upset Harry.

Harry had been dwelling on his thoughts of Snape as much as those of Draco. He felt a burning anger welling up in his chest every time Snape's sallow face swam before his mind's eye. He had a burning desire to wipe the sneer off his face once and for all. 

When he wasn't having dreams of Draco being carted away by the former-Potion's professor, Dumbledore's death replayed over and over again. He saw in his mind's eye Dumbledore pleading, completely broken, and Snape's face full of fury as he cast the dreaded spell.

A feeling of ice spread through Harry's body at the memory, hardly noticing that he was now in the kitchen and Hermione was pushing him into a chair, shoving a plate under his nose.

"Eat," she ordered, and he obeyed.

He ate slowly, unnervingly aware of Hermione's gaze on him the entire time. He avoided her gaze, instead looking out the back door where Mrs. Weasley was shouting orders. Ron was struggling to follow them, but instead, just managed to cause a table to rise straight up into the air and crash down, breaking off one of the legs.

Mrs. Weasley's reprimands drifted in through the open door as Harry sat eating his toast. Hermione frowned as she finally looked away from Harry and outside. She glanced down at her watch and her eyes widened.

"You better hurry up, Harry," she said quickly. "It's ten-thirty already. I wonder if Fleur is okay... I think I'll go check on her."

She shoved a glass of juice into Harry's hands before hurrying up the stairs. Harry heard a door open and Hermione's inquiry.

"Eet is ugly!" came the explosion from above. "My 'air ees not supposed to look like zat!"

He heard Hermione hurrying to console the girl, obviously trying to fix what was wrong. Apparently, Ginny had not tried very hard to help her new sister-in-law.

"Feex it, someone!" Fleur cried hysterically. "I cannot get married like zis!"

Harry heard the beginnings of sobbing and quickly downed the rest of his juice, then went outside to help the rest of the family.

Outside, the rest of the Weasley's were scurrying around, trying to set up the last-minute details. Guests were beginning to arrive, trickling in through the side gate.

Mrs. Weasley, looking flustered but pleased, welcomed them and ushered them into seats that had, just minutes before, been placed in rows facing the archway that now stood at the end of the aisle.

Harry recognized several members of the Order; Lupin, Tonks, Moody, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and some people who were obviously Fleur's relatives.

Ron turned to gape as several people with stunning blond hair filtered into the back yard. A woman with beautiful blue eyes and aristocratically pale skin entered, holding the hand of her youngest daughter Harry knew was Gabrielle. Behind her was another young woman, perhaps only a few years older than Fleur. She had the same beautiful blond hair that fell nearly to her waist just as Fleur’s did. Last was a man Harry took to be her father. He was tall and thin; his face held the remnants of royalty but his eyes were friendly as he took in the setting.

Ron continued to gape at the older girl that had come with the family. Hermione had come outside and walked up behind Ron, accidentally knocking him forward with her elbow. He stumbled a few feet but managed to catch himself before falling completely.

He turned around and glared at Hermione, who didn't look abashed at all. "Sorry, didn't see you," she said simply and walked away.

Harry just rolled his eyes as Ron continued to scowl after her. He walked closer to the family, listening as they began to converse with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

"Well, eet is difficult to travel so much in zees times," Fleur's mother was saying. "But we would not mees our daughter's wedding for anysing."

"We're so happy you could come. Fleur will be ecstatic," Mrs. Weasley said graciously. "And, may I ask..." she said tentatively, indicating the other members of the family.

"Oh, of course," Fleur's mother said graciously, her French accent weighing heavily upon the words. "Zis is my 'usband, Thomas, and my two girls, Gabrielle I zink you know, and my uzzer daughter, Rosetier."

"Rose, s'il vous plait--em, please," the older girl corrected her mother.

"Ah, oui," Mme Delacour agreed. "I am always forgetting she does not like 'er full name."

Harry moved forward a little bit more, hoping to get a better look at Rose. She had the same stunning blue eyes as Fleur and the same haughty demeanor. She was no longer listening as her parents and the Weasley's talked, her eyes, instead, roving over the yard where people were talking together and taking their seats.

Soon, her eyes made the full circle and came to rest on Harry. She looked at him directly, her eyes taking in his face, but for once, not doing the familiar flick up to his scar. She stared deep into his green eyes, as though she could see something the others couldn't.

It didn't last long, though, as the rest of the family caught sight of him. Gabrielle gave him a shy smile as he smiled at her. He was soon dragged over to make introductions, but he couldn't help feeling, as they asked him question after question, that Rose's eyes were still on him.

Soon, though, it was time for the ceremony to start. The families broke apart, and Fleur's father went to find her while Mr. Weasley went to get Bill. Harry took his seat near the front with the rest of the family. Charlie was Bill's best-man and stood with him at the front of the aisle. 

Bill looked nervously excited as he waited. Music struck up around them, a soft tune, not the traditional wedding march, but a soft, classical piece. Everyone rose from their seats and turned to watch as Fleur emerged from behind the crowd.

There was an audible gasp from everyone as they caught sight of her. She looked breathtaking in a gorgeous gown of white silk. The train trailed behind her as she walked slowly, her father on one side. 

Harry noted that Hermione must have been able to fix her hair. The tiara Mrs. Weasley had gifted to her sparkled in the morning sun. Half of her hair had been braided back and twisted elegantly up; tiny, light pink flowers placed strategically held it in place. Harry was sure there was some magic there as well.

Once she was to the front, everyone sat down as the ceremony continued. Harry didn't pay much attention as it went on. His mind drifted, once again, back upstairs to where the Pensieve was, safely locked in his trunk.

He couldn't wait for tomorrow. Tomorrow would be his seventeenth birthday. He was going to take his Apparition test along with Ron and then it would begin. He had whiled away most of the summer, desperate to start but unable to. He knew it would be no use if he couldn't Apparate. He had forced himself to wait, not-so-patiently, for the summer to pass before he began his true mission.

Every day that passed was another day closer to when he might be able to get Draco back and kill that son of a bitch Snape. Of course, he hadn't forgotten about Voldemort either. What little thought that was not consumed with Draco or Snape was focused on the four remaining Horcruxes.

His little mantra of _cup, locket, snake... something of Gryffindor's or Ravenclaw's_ was never absent from his mind. He knew he had to destroy them all to even have a chance at killing Voldemort. The problem was that he had no means of finding them. Dumbledore had never quite explained how he found them, or even what to do once you got them. How did you destroy a Horcrux? Harry had no idea. He told himself he would cross that bridge when he came to it.

The wedding was over sooner than Harry realized. Bill and Fleur were kissing, and there were the soft sounds of sniffles rising in the group. Harry looked around and saw Hermione wiping at her eyes, as was Mrs. Weasley. Ginny's face appeared stony as she watched the ceremony come to a close.

Harry looked away as she turned. He didn't want her to know he'd been watching. His eyes, instead, were caught as he looked at Rose. She was watching him, almost intently. Her face betrayed no emotions as she looked at him, her bright blue eyes holding his own.

Harry broke the gaze quickly, a feeling of unease washing over him. He turned back to the front, but the feeling of being watched never left him, and he was sure Rose was still watching him. Everyone rose as Fleur and Bill walked back down the aisle. They looked beyond happy as they went back to the house for a moment of rest before the reception.

Everyone filtered out of their chairs, and with a wave, Mrs. Weasley and Mr. Weasley cleared all the chairs, replacing them with small round tables and chairs. Long tables, covered in the same white linen, were conjured and soon filled with a delicious spread of food.

Harry lingered away from the group, content to stand on his own, half-hidden from everyone. He just didn't feel up to talking to anyone. Ron and Hermione glanced over at him quite frequently but neither made any attempt to make him join the group.

He stayed just long enough to give his wishes to Bill and Fleur and make it seem as if he had stayed. He then quietly slipped away when everyone else was engaged. As he slipped in the door, he thought for a fleeting second that he had felt someone watching him, but when he glanced back, no one appeared to be.

He went up to Ron's room, sitting down on his bed. He could hear all the merriment coming in through his window but had no desire to be a part of it. He only wished he was as happy as the rest of them, but he couldn't stop the despair welling up inside him.

He looked down at his wrist, his eyes falling on the silver bracelet once more. He stroked the tiny snake in an affectionate manner, and it let out a tiny hiss as it continued to slither around the bracelet. 

He looked over at his trunk again; the undeniable urge to pull out the Pensieve coming over him. He contemplated for a moment then could no longer stop himself. Carefully removing it from the trunk, he placed it back on the bed once more, its silvery contents glittering innocently.

He looked around carefully once more. He didn't know why, but he somehow felt incredibly unprotected with the Pensieve out in the open. He hardly ever took it out when he wasn't alone. 

Ron and Hermione knew he had it but never pressed him to see it. They seemed to understand that it was under his control. He didn't know why he refrained from showing them, but he just felt like it was something he had to do alone.

Harry took out his wand and prodded the top of the memories carefully, just as he had that morning. They swirled for a moment, then focused in on the same classroom as before. A dark-haired boy sat alone in the middle of an empty classroom as a teacher looked on.

Harry sighed and sat back, shaking the basin and erasing the memory once more. So far, he hadn't found a memory worthy enough of recollection. He was beginning to wonder if there were any more useful memories in the Pensieve.

Disappointed, Harry picked up the Pensieve and placed it back in the trunk, locking it securely before collapsing on his bed. Staring up at the ceiling, he wondered if this would ever end.

He needed to find the Horcruxes. He needed to find Snape. He needed to get Draco back. Harry took a shaky breath as he turned over onto his side. He wished Draco was there. 

***

The next morning, Harry was awoken by a pillow being tossed at his face. He sat up groggily, looking for the source. He saw at once that it had been Ron who'd thrown it. He was about to ask why he needed to be up so early when he realized that there was a pile of presents at the end of his bed.

He had nearly forgotten his birthday, as it had hardly ever been celebrated previously. He crawled to the end of the bed and began unwrapping things.

From Ron, he received a box of Chocolate Frogs. From Hermione, a book of complex spells she must have thought useful. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had given him a beautiful chess set. Hagrid gave him the usual gift of Rock Cakes which Harry set aside. Fleur had gifted Harry a small, silver box. Inside was pressed flower whose essence gave the person a very relaxed feeling.

Harry reached for a tiny package and unwrapped it. Inside was a key. Harry frowned as he turned it over, confused. He reached into the box and pulled out a letter.

_Harry,_

_Though we have never gotten along quite as we should, you are still my sister’s son. Though the times seem dark for you, you will know that, should you choose, my door is not locked._

_-Petunia Dursley_

Harry stared down at the letter and then at the key. For the first time in his life, he felt no rush of dislike towards the Dursleys. For the first time, his aunt was actually admitting that he was not the dirt under her fingernails.

He took the key, placed it back in its box, and set it down at the very bottom of his trunk. He knew he would never use it. 

He had gone back at the beginning of the summer, as he knew was needed. He had told them that he would be leaving and never coming back. Vernon had not seemed too shaken up about it, and Dudley had let out a relieved sigh. Petunia hadn't said a word as he had grabbed his trunk and wheeled it to the door. He had left, knowing he would never see them again.

Harry closed the trunk and opened the rest of his presents. The twins had given him a new product of theirs. It was a white glove that, when put on, allowed the wearer to pass his hand through solid objects to grab things on the other side and pull them back. Harry tried it on his trunk, reaching in through the top and grabbing a pair of socks that came through the solid wood with no trouble at all.

"I hope they're not selling this to the public," Harry muttered to Ron. Ron nodded his head fervently. Harry noticed that he looked rather green. "What's wrong?"

"Well, today... we have to Apparate," Ron said nervously.

"Oh," Harry sighed. "Yeah." He was kind of nervous, despite the fact that he could Apparate perfectly well. He just knew today was his last day before it would all begin.

He and Ron went down to breakfast where everyone greeted Harry joyously. They offered him birthday greetings, and Mrs. Weasley made his favorite breakfast. They were joined by the Delacour family, who were staying for a few weeks before going back to France.

He avoided Rose's eyes as he sat down, knowing she was watching him once more. He tried to encourage Ron to eat something, but he refused. After a while, he gave up, leaving Hermione to do the cheering.

"Just remember," she told them. "Destination, Determination, Deliberation!"

"Easy for you to say," Ron muttered. "You've already passed!"

Hermione didn't know what to say to that so she opted, for once, to remain silent. Harry ate quietly, hoping he would pass but also worrying about what would happen afterwards. This was it. He was officially an adult in the wizarding world. There was no one left to protect him.

His mind flew back to Draco, as it so often did. He had no one to protect him either, aside from the murderer Snape, and what good was he? Draco was somewhere, probably being tortured by the Dark Lord. Harry's stomach gave a violent twist, and his heart stopped momentarily at that thought.

He quickly composed himself before anyone noticed and went back to picking at his food. He couldn't stand the thought that he was sitting in the comfort of The Burrow while Draco was out there somewhere, probably in grave danger. Harry wouldn't suppose Voldemort would be too happy that he had failed. Then again, Snape had done it anyway, so maybe he wasn't in too much trouble.

Harry hoped, more than believed, that that was the truth. He knew Voldemort would not be pleased, though, and the sooner Harry could get out of there, the sooner he could find and destroy the Horcruxes and rescue Draco.

Before Harry realized it, breakfast was over, and Mr. Weasley, Charlie, and a few Aurors were there to escort him and Ron to the Ministry to do their tests. The rest wished them good luck, save Ginny, who remained stubbornly silent.

When they arrived, they met their tester, the same wizard who had taught them; Wilkie Twycross. He was as indifferent as ever as he instructed them to Apparate from one end of the Atrium to the other. Usually, they would do it outside, but given the new, stricter, security measures, they were forced to remain in the Ministry.

Harry passed his test with no problems at all. Everyone around him beamed and he tried his best to act as happy as they were. Ron was next. He looked increasingly green as Twycross told him to Apparate next to the grilles.

Ron stepped up beside Twycross, swallowing hard as everyone looked on. He stepped up, his eyes closed tight in concentration, and rotated on the spot. There was a crack and he reappeared next to the lifts. He opened his eyes carefully, at once reaching up to feel his face to make sure no eyebrows had been left behind this time.

"Passed," Twycross said blandly, making a note on his paper. He pulled out his wand and gave it a tap. Harry and Ron both signed and were granted their licenses that would be stored away in the archives of the Ministry.

On the way home, Ron chattered away about how he knew he would pass all along. Harry was only half listening, his thoughts once more absorbed with plans.

When they reached The Burrow, everyone gave them their congratulations. Harry, who didn't feel much like celebrating, excused himself after a decent amount of time and retreated to Ron's room.

Once there, he sat down on his bed, gazing out the window at the clear blue sky. He sighed, almost feeling as if he should leave now and not drag Ron and Hermione into it with him.

He started as there was a knock on the door. He told his heart to calm down as he rearranged himself on the bed.

"Come in," he called. The door creaked slowly open and Harry strained to see who it was.

A sheet of blond hair fell through the door, followed by the tall, willowy form of Fleur's sister, Rose. "Excuse me," she said, her French accent laced through every word. "May I speak wis you?"

"Uh..." Harry hesitated. There was something about this girl that made him uneasy, though he didn't quite know what. "Sure."

She gave him a mysterious smile, stepping all the way through the door and closing it with a snap.

 

~*~

A/N: Any kind of feedback is much appreciated. I've never written anything like this before...


	3. Of Punishments and Snakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry has four goals: Find the Horcruxes, kill Voldemort, avenge Dumbledore, and, most importantly, find and save Draco.

  
Author's notes: Harry has four goals: Find the Horcruxes, kill Voldemort, avenge Dumbledore, and, most importantly, find and save Draco.

~Sequel to Falling Away with You~  


* * *

*

All was dark as Draco woke late in the night. An odd smell met his nostrils and he recoiled, immediately awake. He sat up quickly, looking around him. The room in which he was was small. The only furniture was the bed on which he sat and a small bedside table. The door that was across from him was shut tightly.

Draco reached over for his wand, using it to light a small candle that stood on the table. He sighed to himself, remembering where he was and why the room smelled so foul.

There was a creaking sound and the door was thrown open. Draco's heart jumped in his throat for a second, but left once he saw who it was. He sneered at the hunched form of a man that entered the room.

"What do you want?" he sneered in disgust. 

The man scowled at being addressed so by such a younger person. "Severus wishes to speak with you. You will come with me."

He led the way out of the room and Draco followed cautiously. He knew it couldn't be good. They had been holed up in Spinner's End for the past few weeks. Many times, Draco had thought about escaping, but he knew he would be dead before he even got out the window.

He followed Wormtail down a narrow staircase and out from behind the bookcase that concealed the door. The bright light of the living room was almost blinding as they emerged into it.

Draco looked around and saw Snape standing by the fireplace, looking into it intently. He looked up when they entered and gestured for Draco to sit, which he did carefully.

"That will be all, Wormtail," Snape said coldly to the hunched man, who bowed and retreated from the room. He turned back to Draco, who was watching him apprehensively.

Ever since that fateful night when Snape had committed the murder of Albus Dumbledore, they had stayed in that putrid house. Draco knew nothing of what was going on. Snape did not tell him what was happening. Draco knew he was not safe. He knew the Dark Lord must be angry that he had not completed his mission.

When he had promised Harry, so many months ago, he had not thought of all the consequences. He had no idea of what fate awaited him, but he knew it could not be good.

At night, he lay awake in his bed, wishing that Harry would appear outside his window to take him away. He knew he should have left Snape and gone to Harry when he'd had the chance back at the castle. Draco was waiting for Harry to come for him. He knew he would. He knew.

"Draco," Snape said, breaking into his thoughts and bringing him back to reality. Snape had sat down in the adjacent chair and fixed him with his black eyes. "We cannot hide forever. The Dark Lord knows. He wishes to see you."

"We can't do that!" Draco exclaimed. "He's going to kill me, Severus."

"He may not," Snape said quietly. "He may... keep you."

"What do you mean, 'keep me'?" Draco asked carefully, not liking the sound of it.

"I can't tell you what he will do, Draco. Only he knows what punishment he may inflict upon you."

"And you're just going to let him?" Draco asked, growing worried. Oh, how he wished he was with Harry at that very moment. Harry would protect him. Harry loved him.

"I cannot control the Dark Lord, Draco. You very well know that," Snape replied, his voice becoming quieter and more dangerous.

"But I--I failed my mission. Surely, he doesn't want to praise me," Draco said scornfully, his anger covering up his immense fear at facing Voldemort.

"You are in no position to be angry," Snape said in a cold voice. "The Dark Lord will deal with you as he sees fit. You would do best to remain silent and take that punishment."

Draco was silent for a moment. As he saw it, there was no possible way out of this situation. He would face Voldemort and take what he got. He only hoped it would not be as horrible as he imagined.

"But, sir?" he asked in a whisper, looking up at Snape carefully. "Couldn't I... I could leave."

"And go where?" Snape replied coldly. 

"There are... places," Draco said slowly, hoping he would catch on. 

Snape's eyes widened as realization dawned. "Do not mention that again. No one would take you after what has happened. The Dark Lord would kill you instantly."

Draco sighed, wishing he could tell Snape all that he knew, but it was too dangerous. What if the Dark Lord broke through his defenses and saw what Draco could tell him... about Harry, about their relationship? It could be damaging to everyone.

Instead, he remained silent knowing that, unless Harry showed up right at that very moment, he was about to face his doom. 

Snape stood up and walked around the back of the chair, looking agitated, rubbing at his left forearm unconsciously. All of a sudden, a searing pain ripped through both of them. Draco clutched instinctively at his arm, gripping it so hard his fingernails left marks on the skin.

When it was over, he looked up at Snape, who appeared to be steeling himself. Snape looked down at him. "It is time."

He walked around the chair and grabbed Draco's upper arm, leading him out the back door. Once they were about fifty feet from the door, Snape stopped, still gripping Draco's arm.

He looked at Draco for a second and Draco thought that maybe, he might just let him go, run away and try to save himself. But a moment later, it was gone. Snape took a breath, and in a crack, they were gone.

They reappeared in a pitch black room. Draco could see nothing at all in the darkness. There were no windows, no lights of any kind illuminating the room. He felt Snape release his arm and step back from him.

He was looking around in the dark, hoping his eyes would adjust and he would be able to see something. It was no use, though. Everything was infinitely dark.

Suddenly, a torch flared up behind him. Draco whipped around but saw nothing but the torch. He turned back to the front and gasped.

There, standing in a small doorway, was a tall figure swathed in black. The man moved forward, lighting one more torch with his wand. Draco remained rooted to the spot. 

"M-my lord," he stuttered, remembering the proper respect the Dark Lord demanded. He bowed forward slightly, keeping his head upward, watching Voldemort closely.

"Draco," a voice hissed, cold and high from the figure coming closer. "You have failed me."

Draco said nothing. He had nothing to say. He couldn't defend himself without revealing everything.

"Let's see why," Voldemort said softly, and Draco knew what was coming.

He was actually prepared for this. For weeks in his solitude, he had concentrated all his energy on it.

He felt Voldemort enter his mind, bringing memories to the surface of that night. There was Dumbledore, weak and wandless, slipping down to the ground as Draco stood there, wand in hand. Suddenly, a Death Eater appeared beside him, shouting something about killing Dumbledore.

Draco had told him angrily that he would do it. He had raised his wand to perform the curse when members of the Order had broken through the defense. Draco flung himself into a dark corner and watched as they rushed past, following the Death Eater, taking no notice of the hunched figure on the ground.

Draco came out of his place, staring at the crippled figure. Another Death Eater had come running up the stairs, knocking him to the side. That was when Snape had appeared. He wasted no time in killing Dumbledore and dragging Draco away.

The Dark Lord came out of Draco's subconscious looking less than pleased. This was not the situation he had imagined.

Draco waited, wondering if he would believe what he'd seen. That had not been what had occurred at all, but in the darkness of his room, Draco had fabricated the memories to protect himself and Harry.

Voldemort's scarlet eyes narrowed as he looked at Draco. "Never mind what happened," he said finally, his voice cold as ice. "You have failed me. You will be punished."

He raised his wand and, as if an invisible hand was pushing him backwards, Draco was shoved back and down into a wooden chair that stood in the middle of the room.

As soon as he sat down, clinking chains appeared from nowhere, snaking up his arms and binding him tightly. Draco's looked down at the chains, panicking slightly. What was the Dark Lord going to do to him?

An evil, twisted smirk appeared on Voldemort's face as he watched the struggle in Draco's face. Draco looked over to where Snape stood, his face cast into shadow by the flickering torches.

His head snapped forward as Voldemort approached him. He tried to recoil as Voldemort reached out a finger, drawing it down the side of his face. 

Voldemort gave a low chuckle, not at all amused sounding. "Draco," he whispered. "Perhaps you need some time."

_Yeah, some time to figure out how to kill you,_ Draco thought vehemently. He didn't say anything to Voldemort as he stood in front of him.

"I will give you time," Voldemort said in a soft and menacing voice. "But I am not a patient man."

Draco said nothing, heeding Snape's advice. He wondered exactly what the Dark Lord meant by "time". 

"Perhaps a few days without food will do the trick," Voldemort hissed. "Normally I would not resort to something so _Muggle_ , but certain times call for certain acts. If that does not soften you up, I fear wizard tricks will come."

He turned and walked toward the door. He opened it and Draco had to stop himself from crying out in surprise and shock. A humongous snake slithered through the door and right up to Draco. Its tongue flicked out, smelling him.

"Nagini here will keep you company, won't you?" Voldemort added, a cruel smile twisting his face.

The snake let out a low hiss, and Draco's eyes widened. He looked back over to where Snape still stood. He hadn't said a word during the entire meeting. Draco half-hoped that maybe he would help him. His hope was short-lived, though, as Voldemort called for him to come.

"Severus, come with me. I have something to discuss with you."

Together, they left, slamming the door behind them, the torches flickering and dying, leaving only the soft sounds of Nagini slithering over the floor around Draco's feet.


	4. In the Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry has four goals: Find the Horcruxes, kill Voldemort, avenge Dumbledore, and, most importantly, find and save Draco.

  
Author's notes: Harry has four goals: Find the Horcruxes, kill Voldemort, avenge Dumbledore, and, most importantly, find and save Draco.

~Sequel to Falling Away with You~  


* * *

*

Rose turned around from the door to face Harry, who still sat on the bed. He was beginning to seriously doubt his decision of letting her come in. Unfortunately, he had always been too polite for his own good, due mainly to the Dursleys' insistence that he be as "normal" as possible. 

Rose crossed the room, sitting down on the bed in front of Harry, one leg curled underneath her while the other hung over the side. She turned to him, her long, blond hair falling gracefully over her shoulder. She held Harry's gaze for a moment until Harry felt the urge to look away.

"You are troubled," Rose said quietly, her soft, melodious voice floating into Harry's ears.

"No'm not," he mumbled, not looking at her.

"'Arry, zere is no need to 'ide it," she said quietly.

Harry looked up at her carefully. He didn't know what to make of her. The way she looked at him, it was like she knew things the others didn't. "I'm not hiding anything," he said, a little more defiantly. He didn't like the idea of a girl he barely knew trying to tell him he was hiding something.

"You are meesing 'im," she said softly.

Harry's eyes shot wide open. "Who?" he asked stupidly, though he knew very well who. But how did she know?

Rose gave him a sympathetic smile and reached out, taking Harry's hand in hers. She turned it over and ran her finger down the line Harry knew to be his love line. He had learned that in Divination; one of the few things he remembered. He frowned down at his palm, wondering what she knew.

"'E is safe, for now," she said quietly, staring at the palm. "But zere are difficult times ahead."

"What are you talking about? And wh-who are you talking about?" Harry was beginning to become unnerved as she ran her manicured finger over his love-line.

"'E is waiting," she said, speaking quietly. "You are lucky, 'Arry."

"Lucky? Why? Who are you talking about?" He would not admit to anything. Not even Ron or Hermione knew about what had happened between him and Draco. He wasn't about to tell a complete stranger about it.

"You know 'oo, 'Arry," she said, her voice suddenly serious and colder than before. She looked up at him, her bright blue eyes locking with his own. "You love 'im."

"You mean...?" Harry was in complete shock. How did she know?!

"Oui, I know."

"B-but... but how?" he stuttered.

She broke her gaze with him, looking back at his hand that was still in hers. She turned it back over, stroking it softly as though contemplating it. She paused for a moment while Harry waited impatiently.

"I am a Seer. I 'ave zee ability to see into people's mind. I can see past, present, sometimes ze future."

Harry was silent for a moment, relative disbelief soaking through him. She was a Seer? He'd had experiences with Seers before and they never seemed quite legitimate.

"That sounds like Legilimency," Harry said, trying not to sound disrespectful, knowing that Seers disliked being contradicted.

"I do not need a spell to See. Eet is a natural gift," she said, and Harry continued to look skeptical. "You do not believe me."

"Well, I--" Harry said, but couldn't force himself to say he really believed her. He believed in prophecies, yes, but actual day-by-day predictions?

"Geev me your uzzer 'and," she commanded him, holding hers out. He lifted his carefully and placed it, palm down, on her hand.

She shifted herself and closed her eyes. Harry thought it must not be Legilimency if she could have her eyes closed. 

He had just begun to wonder what she was doing when he felt a hot tingling on the bottom of his palms as if magic was rushing through them. He nearly jerked his hands away at the new sensation, but forced himself to remain.

He glanced up cautiously at Rose, who still had her eyes closed. He decided it might be better, or at least less awkward, if he closed his as well.

As soon as he did so, he felt a rush of memories rise to the surface of his mind. It didn't feel like it had when Snape had been teaching him Occlumency. It was more a leisurely stroll through random thoughts and memories.

Harry couldn't tell exactly what he was seeing, as it seemed blurry. He couldn't feel Rose's presence in his mind like he had expected, either. It was merely as if he was watching a fuzzy dream that continued to shift.

One sharp picture appeared in his mind and he gasped, retracting his hands from Rose's as though he'd been burned. He opened his eyes to find her watching him intently. Her blue eyes burned into his skin; a clear, ice blue.

"'E is waiting," she said once again, in a soft yet deceiving voice. "But you 'ave much to do."

Harry looked up at her, seeing the understanding in her eyes. He knew she saw it from his point of view. She did not hate him for loving the enemy. She was on his side.

Just then, Ron burst through the door. "Harry! Mum sent me t--" He cut himself off abruptly as he caught sight of Rose sitting on the bed. "I'll just come back later, shall I?" he said and backed out of the room.

Rose turned back to Harry, a sad smile on her face. She leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before standing up. She walked across the room and placed her hand on the door knob. She paused before opening it and looked back to him.

"Good bye, 'Arry," she said quietly, turning the knob and vanishing out the door.

Harry sat on the bed in utter shock. He had never imagined that Fleur's sister could be a Seer. He shook his head sharply, the feeling that there were too many memories teeming at the surface making it hard to concentrate.

Harry glanced over at his trunk and had a sudden idea. He crawled down the end of the bed and flipped it open, pulling the Pensieve out of it. He set it on the bed and bit his lower lip worriedly.

He had never known exactly how to put memories in the Pensieve. He figured it must be to concentrate on a specific memory, then pull it away. The problem was that he could not focus on any memory. He didn't know what half of them were.

He decided that he might chance it. He raised his wand tentatively and placed it to his temple. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to concentrate on attaching the memories. He pulled the wand away and, to his surprise, a long, thin, silvery strand of memory was attached to it.

His heart gave an exultant leap as he lowered the memory into the basin. The memory swirled but did not rise to the surface, instead falling to the bottom, it seemed. Harry did this until most of the random memories had been placed in the Pensieve. His head felt much lighter without all the extra thoughts. 

With the last memory, he placed the Pensieve back in his trunk. He had just snapped the top shut and locked it, now using magic for the first time; he felt a sense of pride when the lock glowed yellow and rattled a tiny bit, when Ron burst back into the room.

He walked over to Harry, a maniacal grin on his face. Harry gave him a confused look as he continued to grin.

"Harry," he said in a sly voice, “you and Rose? I wouldn't have guessed. Ginny will be furious. Maybe you shouldn't mention it."

"Er..." Harry said. It didn't occur to him to put Ron right, so he just let him go on. "Yeah, I'll keep it quiet."

As he watched Ron walk around the room, talking about something or other, Harry wondered if it would be possible to leave that night. Maybe he ought to leave without Ron and Hermione... He gave an internal sigh, knowing that it was impossible. If he did, they would just hunt him down anyway. He just didn't want anyone else to be hurt any more than necessary. Draco was already in grave danger because of him.

"Harry, it's time for dinner," Ron said, breaking once more into Harry's thoughts. 

"Alright," Harry agreed, standing up.

As they left the room, Harry looked back to where his trunk stood at the foot of his bed, wondering what exactly Rose had seen.

They walked into the kitchen to find it full to bursting with everyone ready to wish Harry a happy birthday one last time. They sat down to a groaning table and Harry felt marginally happy as he ate with everyone, trying to repress the horrible feeling that kept welling up every time he would remember that this was probably the last time they would all be together like that.

He glanced over at Rose once to find that she was not looking at him. She was engaged in conversation with Fleur, and Harry didn't understand a word of the French. He turned to find Ginny frowning at him. He tried to give her a sad smile but she didn't respond, only looked away.

He didn't understand. She had seemed to understand perfectly well when he had broken up with her. Of course, he hadn't given her the real reason as to why, but he thought what he had said had been a good enough reason. Since then, though, she had seemed to become more resentful as time went on. He wished he could explain everything to her, but knew she would kill him for using her like he had.

After dinner was over, the guests slowly began to leave, their goodbyes seeming almost bittersweet. Harry saw most of them off, then excused himself from the table, once again retreating upstairs to be alone.

As he left, Ron and Hermione exchanged a look behind his back.

He trudged up the stairs and into the room. He stood facing his trunk, steeling himself. He knew he had to do it. Not doing it was not an option. Every day spent without Draco was an agonizing notch in his world. Every day lived knowing that Voldemort was still out there, killing innocent people simply for fun, clenched at Harry's stomach. Knowing that Snape was still roaming free somewhere after killing Dumbledore filled Harry with rage.

He knew he had to do it. There was no other choice and he wouldn't have it any other way. He had to find Draco, find the Horcruxes, avenge Dumbledore, kill Voldemort.

Harry took one last steeling breath before he reached down, unlocking his trunk and flipping it open. He grabbed out a small bag and placed it on the bed. From the trunk, he removed Fleur's birthday gift, along with the Weasley twins' gift, a few change of clothes, several books he was sure to need, his Invisibility Cloak, and his bag of money. He shrank everything and placed it carefully in the bag.

Lastly, he removed the Pensieve, waved his wand over it so as to seal it, and then he shrank it too, placing it in the bag along with the rest of his possessions. He stood looking around the bright orange room, wondering if he would ever see it again.

He gave a tremendous start as the door was thrown open, bouncing off its hinges. He whipped around, his heart pounding in his chest. He was relieved to see that it was only Ron and Hermione.

"You guys scared me," he said, turning back around to look at the bag on his bed.

"Well, you shouldn't be trying to sneak off without us," Hermione replied, her hands on her hips.

"I wasn't doing that," Harry sighed.

"Sure looks like it," Ron said casually, eyeing Harry's bag and open trunk.

"You know you wouldn't let me get away with that," Harry said, attempting humor.

Hermione looked at him worriedly and moved around beside him. "Harry, we're coming with you. We're here for you."

"I know you are," he said softly. "I just-- I don't want you to get hurt."

"Well, if we do, then it's our own fault," Ron said matter-of-factly, and Harry nearly laughed.

"You don't know what you're getting into," he said, looking at the pair of them sadly. He didn't want any more people hurt than was necessary.

"When have we ever?" Hermione asked, giving him a small smile. "Don't worry, Harry. We'll always help you."

Harry looked down at his bag and sighed. If only they knew the truth. What would they think if he told them about Draco and what had really happened at the Tower? Would they still be so quick to support him? They had never been so supportive of Draco, even when he had left them alone the entire last year. 

"Yeah," Harry agreed softly. He was caught by surprise as Hermione hugged him suddenly. He stayed awkwardly still until she released him.

"Well, mate," Ron said, once she had stepped back; he had actually seemed oddly unperturbed by Hermione's show of affection. "I guess me and Hermione have got some packing to do."

Harry couldn't help but smile slightly as Hermione left and Ron began to throw things into a pile to shrink later. He finally felt like something was going right for once, though he knew it could not last forever, and, indeed, it wouldn't.

 

~~**~~ __

_A/N: Please review :)_


	5. The Leaving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry has four goals: Find the Horcruxes, kill Voldemort, avenge Dumbledore, and, most importantly, find and save Draco.

  
Author's notes: Harry has four goals: Find the Horcruxes, kill Voldemort, avenge Dumbledore, and, most importantly, find and save Draco.

~Sequel to Falling Away with You~  


* * *

*

When Harry awoke the next morning, it was raining. Great shimmering drops plummeted from the sky, soaking the ground, puddles springing up from the unexpected summer rain.

He sat up in his bed, watching out the window as a torrent of rain poured past. The sight of it didn't give him much encouragement. He looked to the foot of his bed where his bag sat, full and ready to go.

He knew it would be difficult to leave the security of The Burrow, but he knew he was no longer safe anywhere so he might as well do something worth while. He felt a sense of urgency to start as well. He knew the longer he waited, the more likely it was that Draco was dead.

The thought gave a sharp tug on his stomach. He glanced down at the silver bracelet that was around his wrist. He felt a pang of guilt that he still hadn't started. He reached down and covered up the snake, only to pull his hand back a second later with a hiss of pain.

"Ow," he breathed, sucking on his pointer finger. The tiny snake hissed menacingly at him as though it had known what he was doing. He frowned down at it.

"S'matter?" came a groggy voice from Harry's left. Ron had woken at Harry's noise. He was trying to sit up amongst his tangled sheets.

"Nothing, Ron," Harry said quietly as Ron yawned, sitting up and stretching.

Harry quickly changed into a pair of jeans and a tee shirt, glancing once more out the dark grey window, wondering if this was some kind of bad omen. 

He left Ron in the room, still fighting with his sheets, and proceeded to the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley was the only one up. She was sitting at the table, her head in her hands as she stared unseeingly at it.

She jumped up as Harry entered. She hastily smoothed down her clothes as he looked at her. She gave a sniff and fixed her face into a smile. "Harry, what would you like to eat?" she asked.

"Nothing," Harry said listlessly. As he'd been watching her, he'd thought how much harder it would be to actually leave.

"Oh, come on," she said, sounding more like herself. "You have to have something. Just a bit of toast."

In the end, Harry gave in to her wheedling. She looked pleased as he took a piece of toast and nibbled on the edge. His stomach was too nervous to really be hungry.

Outside, the rain poured down in torrents, splattering the low kitchen windows with mud. Beyond the distant hills, Harry saw a flash of lightning followed by a roll of thunder. Mrs. Weasley looked up from where she was frying some bacon and frowned.

She and Harry remained silent until Ron padded down into the kitchen and flopped down at the table with a yawn. Mrs. Weasley looked down at her youngest son, obviously trying not to cry.

"Here's some breakfast," she said quietly, setting down a plate and turning away quickly. Ron watched her for a moment then looked at Harry, who gave a half-shrug. Ron frowned and looked back to his plate.

They sat at the table together, each picking at their respective plates. Even Ron did not seem as hungry as he usually did. He ate half his kippers then simply pushed the rest around.

"A--are you all packed?" Mrs. Weasley asked suddenly in a quiet voice. She was not looking at them, instead facing into a corner, pretending to cut up some fruit.

"I think so," Harry responded. He thought back to his bag that was sitting upstairs, filled with his Invisibility Cloak and the Pensieve. He wondered what Ron and Hermione had packed. Doubtlessly, Hermione had stuffed as many "helpful" books in as possible, ready to whip one out in case of emergency. 

Hermione appeared in the door at that moment, exchanging a somber look with the boys. "Good morning, Mrs. Weasley," she said, trying to sound cheerful.

That seemed to break Mrs. Weasley's resolve. She turned around, letting out a sob, and grabbed Hermione, pulling her into a bone-crushing hug. "I c-can't believe y-you're leaving so s-soon!" she cried. "What will you do?! Y-you're barely seventeen!"

Hermione patted her back reassuringly as she hugged her tightly. She finally let go of her and instead seized Ron.

"Mum!" he cried in surprise. "I'm fine!"

"You're my y-youngest!" she howled. "M-my baby! You're not fine! Y-you're going off to fight a war you don't understand!"

"Ginny is the youngest," Ron said, his words muffled by his mother's shoulder. Mrs. Weasley didn't answer, only cried harder, holding him so tightly he might break. Finally, she released him and turned to Harry.

Harry thought he knew what was coming and steeled himself against the blow. To his surprise, Mrs. Weasley squatted down to his level where he sat at the table. She took his hand in hers, much like Rose had done the night before.

"Harry," she whispered in a trembling voice, her eyes shining with yet unshed tears. "You're like a son to me. You always have a home here. Promise me you'll be safe; you won't go into unnecessary danger."

"I--" Harry said. He couldn't exactly promise that. How would he know what he might have to do in this war?

"Promise me," Mrs. Weasley pleaded, her expression becoming more frantic.

"I--yes, yes," he said. He didn't know if he could keep that promise but he'd made it. She looked only slightly satisfied as she moved away, wiping tears away with the back of her hand.

She looked like she was going to say more to them when more people came in through the door. The rest of breakfast was spent in a kind of tense silence. No one said much besides asking to pass the toast.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat apart from everyone, almost feeling as if they were already separated. Harry knew this was what his life would be like until the end of the war. He would never again be part of anything. He was Harry Potter, the one who stood alone to face Voldemort and would defeat him in the end.

But Harry would never be whole again until he was finished. He felt an emptiness in himself that could not be filled with peace. He knew what belonged there. The green snake on his wrist hissed quietly at him in the silence of the room.

Finally, Harry could take it no longer. He rose from the table and everyone turned to look at him. He saw the fear in their eyes, the worry that they would never come back. He could feel their apprehension; it filled the air, making it difficult to breathe.

Harry stood there for a moment until Mrs. Weasley also rose. She moved over to him, giving him the hug she had been reserving for last. Her warm arms wrapped over him, and somehow, he knew it wasn't her arms he wanted to feel. The thought only made his desire to leave rise in his chest.

She released him and everyone got up, hugging each of them in turn and whispering their good-byes. Ginny walked up to Harry, her expression blank. "Goodbye, Harry," she said softly. She then turned around and went back to stand next to her mother, who placed a hand around her shoulder.

Fleur gave Harry a quick kiss on each cheek and wished him much luck. Gabrielle gave him a hug, kissed him on the cheek and stepped back. Her innocence seemed lost for half a second as she looked at him.

Rose glided up to Harry, pulling him into a light hug. "Do not worry," she whispered in his ear. "Eet is not always as eet seems."

She gave him a quick kiss before stepping back and standing with the rest of her family. Ginny was now frowning as she watched Rose.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione summoned their bags and hoisted them on, standing awkwardly in the kitchen. Harry desperately wanted to leave, to get a start, but a half of him was screaming that he should stay where he had supportive people and safety. In the back of his mind, though, he knew that nowhere was safe anymore.

"'Bye," he said softly, looking into all their sad faces; it was almost too much to take. Ron and Hermione gave their goodbyes. Harry could tell Hermione was trying hard not to cry.

They turned and opened the kitchen door to the pouring rain. The sky was a dark grey, stormy and wet. As Harry walked out, immediately soaking, he knew that Rose's eyes were once again on his back.

The door slammed behind them and Harry had an overwhelming sense of being alone. He shook the thought away and walked with Ron and Hermione to the Apparition point.

"Well," Ron said as they reached it. "Where to?"

Harry paused, looking back to the house. Standing out in the pouring rain, his clothes already soaked, the rain pounding harder than ever, he knew.

"Where it all began."

***

Three sodden figures appeared in the middle of a large, green field. The rain poured down from above, pounding so hard and fast that it blurred everything else. The three people sprinted off the field towards a large forest that stood on the edge.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione covered their heads as they stood, shivering under the trees.

"Umbrella," Hermione muttered.

"What?" Harry asked as they stood, trying to use the trees as a shelter.

"Of all the things I packed, I didn't pack an umbrella," Hermione said, as though it was really important. Harry and Ron just stared at her for a moment as the rain continued to pour down, soaking their hair and running down their faces.

"Well, it's not like if it's raining during the battles, they'll let you take a time-out to find your umbrella," Harry told her, like it was a stupid idea. Hermione just scoffed and rolled her eyes.

They now looked around them, taking in the huge field that spread out before them and the woods that seemed to surround the entire field. Harry looked around and saw that to his left was a small dirt, now mud, path that led into the woods.

Harry beckoned to the others and they turned and followed the path away from the field. As they walked down it, the trees stayed spaced widely apart. They moved cautiously, jarringly aware that they were no longer safe anywhere.

They passed by gnarled trees, overgrown bushes; the path had been seemingly taken over by underbrush as they walked along, trying their best not to trip on the protruding tree roots. Ron and Hermione stumbled along behind Harry, trying to keep quiet and not disturb anything.

Harry moved slowly, cautiously, forward. All his senses were heightened as he crept through the forest. Around him, he could hear the dripping of water running off leaves. There was a loud crack behind him and he shot around, eyes wide.

To his relief, it was only Ron, who had stepped on a dead branch that had lain across the path. Harry let out a breath and shook his head at Ron, who had the decency to look ashamed. Harry turned back around and continued down the path to where it wound around a corner.

Behind him, Hermione shook her head warningly at Ron, who gave her an annoyed shrug, not daring to speak. She merely rolled her eyes and plunged after Harry.

As they rounded the corner, a house came into sight. It was a small cottage-like house. The bushes had crept out of the trees to the once well-kept gardens and drowned out any living plant. The weeds curled up the side of the house, trying their best to infiltrate the walls. 

Harry beckoned Ron and Hermione forward and they came to a stop on the path to the front door. They all stared up at it; it suddenly looked massive, not like a tiny cottage at all. Angry vines wound over the roof and over the edge of it. White flowers erupted over the vine, their scarlet stamens glaring at Harry.

"Is this it, Harry?" Hermione whispered, as though she was afraid the trees might be listening in. It wasn't exactly quiet in the forest as the rain continued to thunder down, drenching everything. A mini-river of mud flowed across the path just in front of the door.

"I think so," he whispered back.

He stepped over the little river and up the one step to the front door. He turned the knob slowly, listening carefully. The door opened inward, a cracking sound following it like it had been sealed shut by mud for years. It swung open quite easily and Harry walked inside.

Ron and Hermione went in cautiously behind him, staring in all corners of the house. They had walked into a rather large room, supposedly the living room. There was a fireplace on one wall and a window on the other. Two more doors led off the main room where Harry, Ron, and Hermione now stood.

It was fairly dark inside, due to the dark sky outside and that there was only one window, and it was grimy from many years of neglect. Harry stood tensely in the middle of the room, taking it in. There was a small table in one corner. It was tipped onto its side and the two chairs that surrounded it were missing legs and looked like they had been blasted in half. Shards of wood stuck up from their edges.

Harry moved over to the table, placing a hand on its edge and standing there a moment. He hung his head and Ron and Hermione waited anxiously. He took a deep breath and, after a minute, reached down and flipped the table upright. 

His back was turned to Ron and Hermione so they could not see his face. Amidst the pounding rain and howling wind, a tiny hiss could be heard coming from the bracelet on Harry's wrist. 

 

~~**~~

A/N: Apologies on the time it took to update but finals are upon us. Please take the time to leave a little review :)


	6. Draco's Dungeon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry has four goals: Find the Horcruxes, kill Voldemort, avenge Dumbledore, and, most importantly, find and save Draco.

  
Author's notes: Harry has four goals: Find the Horcruxes, kill Voldemort, avenge Dumbledore, and, most importantly, find and save Draco.

~Sequel to Falling Away with You~  


* * *

A soft hissing echoed off the dark walls and Draco lifted his head slightly. He watched as the snake, Nagini, circled restlessly in front of him. Apparently, she didn't like his captivity any more than he did, though for different reasons, Draco was sure.

He sighed as he watched the large snake slither over the floor, flicking her tongue out every so often, tasting the air to make sure he was still present.

"Hey, snake," Draco said suddenly in a quiet voice. He wasn't sure whether or not Nagini understood anything other than Parseltongue, but he was incredibly bored. It had been about a day since he'd been chained into the chair.

Since he had no company, there was no distraction from the gnawing hunger in his stomach. It wasn't too bad yet, but he knew it would get much worse. No one had been to see him since Voldemort had left the day before. Draco didn't suppose he was allowed visitors.

Nagini stopped her slithering and raised her large head, flicking her tongue out at Draco. He still wasn't sure if she could really understand him.

"How did you come to work for the Dark Lord?" he asked conversationally while mentally kicking himself. He was talking to a snake like it was a person!

_That's it, I'm officially crazy._

He watched Nagini, who was looking at him through her dark eyes, her tongue continuing to flick from her mouth. She put her head down and resumed her slithering, though now she moved closer to Draco, as though he had done something to warrant a closer watch.

Draco sighed and tried to relax, but the way the chair was situated did not hold well to relax in. He shifted uncomfortably, thinking longingly of Malfoy Manor where the arm chairs were high-backed but extremely comfortable. 

He let his head fall back onto his shoulders as he stared at the black ceiling. It was difficult to tell how long he'd been in there since there was no window and, therefore, no way of telling when the days passed. He only knew it had only been one day because, wherever he was, in the prison of sorts, there must have been a large clock in a nearby town. Sometimes, he happened to catch the chiming of the bells. Other times, though, he never heard it.

He had just closed his eyes as he sat there, wishing desperately that he had some food, or at least another prisoner to keep him company, when a slight noise jolted him up. His head snapped forward, staring through the pitch-black to the other side of the room where he knew there was a door.

Nagini stopped her slithering, once again raising her large, flat head and staring in the direction of the noise as well. Draco saw a small sliver of light as the door slid open. A shadow soon fell upon the entrance as someone stepped into the room. 

Draco couldn't see who it was, though, as the door was quickly shut, obscuring the light once more. Draco heard the noise of the person walking across the stone floor towards him. Nagini hissed slightly but didn't move from where she lay by Draco's side, her head raised in the air as if ready to strike.

At once, a torch behind Draco was illuminated and the person was visible. Draco's gasp was small but still echoed around the room. He looked up at the person in front of him, hardly daring to believe.

"Blaise?" he whispered.

The boy in front of him said nothing for a moment. He was tall and slim, yet muscular. His skin was a golden brown and his dark hair hung in front of his dark eyes. He was not wearing wizard robes but, instead, Muggle clothes, something like a pair of jeans and a dark colored tee shirt.

"Draco," Blaise replied coldly.

"Blaise," Draco said more insistently. "Get me the fuck out of here!"

A slight smirk twisted the Italian boy's face. "I can't do that," he said in a casual voice.

Beside Draco, Nagini's eyes were narrowed and her tongue flicked out once more, checking the air. She did not attack Blaise, though, just remained poised at Draco's side.

"But, Blaise, why are you--"

Blaise stuck out his arm for Draco to see. On his left forearm, the Dark Mark showed black against his skin. Draco sat back in his chair, a feeling of disappointment washing over him.

"Oh, so you've joined him?"

"I am proud to have joined him," Blaise told Draco, his gaze flickering to Nagini for a second. "He's going to give us everything we want, Draco. He has the power to give pure-blood wizards the power they've always deserved."

Draco refrained from saying or doing anything. He knew it would not be wise to reveal his true nature to anyone. Instead, he arranged his features into a blank look and said nothing. Blaise studied him carefully for a moment, and then removed his wand from his pocket.

Draco eyed it but didn't flinch away from it. Blaise played with it idly, rolling it back and forth between his fingers, as though just using it to keep his hands busy. He said nothing for a few moments, tapping the wand against his hand. The sound of the tiny slap echoed around the room.

Blaise gave one tiny flick of the wand then calmly replaced it back into his pocket. Draco gave him a questioning look, and Blaise inclined his head ever so slightly at Nagini.

Draco looked over at the snake and saw that she was now shaking her head back and forth as though trying to rid herself of a pestering fly. She gave another shake and slid away from them, still tossing her head to the side.

Draco looked back up at Blaise, who finally spoke. "The Dark Lord isn't happy, Draco."

"You think I don't know that?" Draco retorted sarcastically.

"He doesn't believe what he's seen. Not surprising since I'm sure it doesn't coincide with Snape's version."

"Well, I can't help that Snape has a horrible memory," Draco told Blaise, trying to retain his haughty manner.

Blaise narrowed his eyes and moved closer to Draco. "You've been lucky so far, Draco. I wouldn't suppose the Dark Lord is always so lenient. There must be something you're keeping from him that he wants."

"If there was, I wouldn't tell you, now, would I?" Draco asked scathingly. He looked up at Blaise and sneered at his once-friend. 

Blaise had been one of the few confidants he’d had during school. Crabbe and Goyle had merely been for protection, set by his father. Blaise had actually been able to hold an intelligent conversation, something that Draco had admired about him.

Though he had once been close with Blaise, he had never told him about Harry. He knew better than to tell fellow Slytherins that he was sleeping with their mortal enemy. They would have skinned him alive, or worse, turned him over to the Dark Lord. Harry had been his little secret, and he Harry's, and he was going to keep it that way.

"So you've become a Death Eater?" Draco asked, guiding the conversation away from the previous topic. Blaise raised an eyebrow, telling Draco quite clearly the he knew what he was doing, but he allowed the change of subject.

"The Dark Lord rewards loyal service," Blaise replied blandly. "At the moment, I'm a spy." He looked down at his clothes and back up at Draco. "Muggles." He gave a disgusted face and rolled his eyes.

This didn't quite hold with Draco's experiences with Blaise. Though Blaise was a pure-blood through and through, he had always had a certain affinity to Muggles, something Draco had always jumped to tease him about.

"Muggles?" Draco repeated casually. "So you're living among them?"

"That's classified information," Blaise said coldly. A small noise made Blaise turn his head sharply. It was only Nagini, who had bumped into a wall as she shook her head violently back and forth. Blaise looked back to Draco. "As you aren't in the Dark Lord's confidence right now, I really don't think he'd like me to tell you."

Draco restrained himself once again from rolling his eyes. "And why am I not? Because I failed?"

"Yeah, you failed," Blaise replied simply. "Just because Snape was there to rescue your ass doesn't mean you're safe. As I said, the Dark Lord isn't happy."

"When is he ever?" Draco muttered under his breath, but Blaise caught it.

"Don't let the Dark Lord hear you say that," Blaise said sharply. "You're on thin ice, here, Drake." 

Draco looked up as Blaise used his nickname. Blaise's face was blank of emotion as he stared down at Draco. Somewhere off in a dark corner, they could hear Nagini hissing, annoyed.

"Was Snape punished?" Draco asked finally. He hadn't seen or heard anything of the professor since he had left with Voldemort the previous day.

"I haven't seen him," Blaise replied indifferently. "Who cares? He killed Dumbledore. That’s all that mattered."

Draco was silent for a moment. The mention of Dumbledore sent a wave of emotions tumbling through his chest. He had tried not to think about the old man who had died that night on the steps of the Astronomy Tower. That night had changed his life forever as he had known it would, but nothing had gone the way it should.

His thoughts flickered momentarily to Harry, wondering where he was, if he was trying to find him. His heart gave a throb as he remembered the look in Harry's eyes that night before Snape had Apparated them away. Draco let out a breath and looked back at Blaise, who had been silent, studying him through suspicious eyes.

"Is there something you're hiding?" Blaise asked quietly.

Draco raised an aristocratic eyebrow. "Is there something _you're_ hiding?"

"I have nothing to hide. You, on the other hand, what would the Dark Lord want with someone who's failed, brought down his name? Why would he want to keep you around?" Blaise's tone was icy, and his eyes bore into Draco's own.

"I'm sure he has his reasons," Draco replied coldly. He was not enjoying this visit very much. "How did you get in here, Blaise? Only his most trusted would be allowed. He can't trust you. I know you too well; I wouldn't trust you."

"At least you learned something as a Slytherin," Blaise drawled. "He probably doesn't trust me, not truly anyway. But he knows I am loyal, more so than you at any rate."

"And how can he be sure?" Draco asked, staring at Blaise, his eyes hardened.

"He just does. As you said, I'm sure he has his reasons." Blaise gave him a condescending smirk, his hazel eyes glittering in the light from the torch behind Draco.

Draco let out an annoyed huff but didn't respond to the statement. He knew Blaise had done something to get into the Dark Lord's confidence so quickly. Draco knew plenty of things that Blaise had done that would not have gotten him a top spot in the Dark Lord's Order.

Blaise was a Slytherin to the core; loyal to only himself, manipulative, intelligent, and a damn good liar. He did what was best for him, regardless of the consequences to others.

"Can you tell me what's happening?" Draco asked, eyeing Blaise suspiciously.

Blaise let out a derisive laugh that echoed around the room. "You should know better than that, Draco," he said condescendingly, reaching down to pat Draco's cheek a few times. Draco merely scowled at him, his eyes trying to burn a hole in his clothes. "Prisoners have no liberty to know what's going on." 

"Well, if you have nothing interesting to say, I'm quite content here on my own," Draco said scathingly, angry at the reaction he was receiving. "You needn't stay any longer."

Blaise looked down at him, a small smirk on his face. He backed up one step then reached into his pocket. He didn't come out with his wand as Draco had suspected. Instead, he had a small piece of bread. He looked around quickly for Nagini and saw that she was still backed into a corner, shaking her head roughly.

He took a quick step forward and shoved the bread into Draco's hand. Draco looked up at him, a questioning look on his face. Blaise stepped back without a word and walked back toward the door through which he'd come.

Just before reaching it, he turned around and looked at Draco, who was still staring after him. 

"This place could do with a window," he said casually, nodding his head to Draco's right. Draco's eyes flickered to where Blaise had nodded, but only momentarily, then they were once again fixed on Blaise. Blaise turned around then seemed to think better of it.

He turned back and smirked at Draco. "You're not the only Occlumens in this world, Draco," he said quietly and Draco's eyes widened. Blaise raised an eyebrow and opened the door. Draco heard a whisper of sound and then the door slammed shut behind him.

Nagini gave her head one last shake then slithered back into the middle of the room, clearly looking for Blaise, wondering where he'd gone. She decided that he must have left and looked back at Draco, almost suspiciously. His face was blank as she stared at him. Then she turned and slithered around behind him.

He sighed slightly and took out the piece of bread he had hid under his other hand. He looked down at it and a smile tugged at the sides of his mouth. He didn't allow it to come, though, as he began to quietly eat.

 

~~**~~

A/N: I know it's been a while, and school's started again so it's doubtful to get any better. I'll try to stay on top of things. Please review!


	7. Just a Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry has four goals: Find the Horcruxes, kill Voldemort, avenge Dumbledore, and, most importantly, find and save Draco.

  
Author's notes: Harry has four goals: Find the Horcruxes, kill Voldemort, avenge Dumbledore, and, most importantly, find and save Draco.

~Sequel to Falling Away with You~  


* * *

*

"You cheated!"

"I did not!" Harry laughed as he soared over the pitch-black Quidditch field. Draco hovered on his broom, only a few feet away, an indignantly annoyed look on his face.

"Then what do you call it?" he asked snidely.

Harry pretended to think as he soared down and touched down softly on the ground. He was joined moments later by Draco, who had his hands on his hips and was awaiting his explanation. Harry smirked at him and walked closer, but Draco backed away.

"Nu-uh," he said, very ineloquently. "Admit you cheated."

"Well, I would _never_ cheat," Harry said innocently. "That’s a Slytherin's job, isn't it?"

"You know damn well you're not pure Gryffindor. Wouldn't be seeing me if you were," Draco replied, a knowing smirk now dawning on his face.

"Well," Harry said thoughtfully, moving closer to Draco once more, "I suppose that's true."

A possessive grin came onto Harry’s face as he launched himself at Draco, knocking him to the ground. Draco struggled, but only half-heartedly.

Harry used his knees and hips to pin Draco to the ground. He leaned forward, placing his hands on either side of Draco then moved in and breathed in deeply. 

Draco sighed contentedly and shut his eyes. He felt Harry's lip brush against his neck softly, his tongue dipping out to taste him tentatively.

"You're so beautiful," Harry whispered in Draco's ear, causing goose bumps to erupt down Draco's body. 

He shivered at Harry's words and smirked. "I know," he replied cockily. He heard Harry's deep chuckle in his ear and felt Harry's hot tongue running over the shell of it.

"So modest, too," Harry whispered, pulling Draco's ear lobe into his mouth with his teeth.

Draco could already feel the blood rushing to his member as Harry's tongue flicked his ear lobe. He let go of the lobe, scraping his teeth along Draco's jaw bone, following up with his soothing tongue.

Draco's moan reverberated through Harry's body, sending tingles down his spine and blood to his already hard erection. He removed a hand from the ground and shoved it roughly underneath Draco's shirt, grazing against the pale skin. Draco's body arched into the touch and Harry continued to bathe his neck in kisses and nips.

Harry could feel Draco's erection pressing into his thigh rather uncomfortably. He shifted his body, causing their erections to meet in a fiery jolt. They pressed together perfectly, sending tongues of fire licking over Harry's body. He gave a sharp gasp and listened as Draco moaned ecstatically.

He gave Draco's neck one last nip before pressing kisses up his jaw to come down possessively on Draco's mouth. Harry thrust his tongue into Draco's hot mouth, not waiting for an invitation. Draco responded eagerly, his tongue mimicking all Harry's movement. They came together in a sliding dance, melding together in the hot caverns of Draco's mouth.

Draco's hand came up to tangle in Harry's hair, gripping it tightly as the kiss continued in its fervor. Harry began grinding his hips against Draco's, rutting him harder against the ground.

"Fuck, Harry!" Draco gasped, breaking the kiss momentarily as Harry ground harder into him. 

Harry ignored the outburst, pressing hot kisses all down Draco's neck while Draco struggled to regain his breath.

When he had, he pulled Harry up into another soul-stealing kiss. It was hard, possessive, and hungry. They devoured each other in the still night air, a light breeze blowing down the pitch. 

Draco's hands tore at Harry's shirt, tugging it over his head, forcing him to break the kiss, but only for a second. Once it was off and tossed away, Harry captured Draco's lips once more; a bruising kiss. Harry's teeth pulled on Draco's lower lip, loving the low moan he was given in response.

Draco's hands were on Harry's pants now, tugging them down over his hips, but he seemed to be having difficulty. Finally, Draco groped for his wand, unwilling to break the kiss, and spelled them off.

Harry's hands pushed themselves under Draco's shirt, pushing it up to his chin. One hand circled Draco's nipples teasingly, his fingers twisting them alternately. Finally, Harry pulled away from the kiss, tearing off Draco's shirt and throwing it away.

He gave Draco a hard kiss then moved down his body, licking and nibbling at the pale flesh. Draco's body arched upward, brushing his now excruciatingly hard member against Harry's, reminding them that they were, in fact, teenage boys and could only hold on so long.

"Harry, hurry--up--" Draco panted.

"Don't be so impatient," Harry murmured in a husky voice against Draco's navel. He flicked out his tongue as a reprimand then slid his hands lower, down to Draco's pants.

His fingers ran teasingly around the waist of Draco’s jeans, and he grinned slyly up at him. 

Draco glared down at his blatant teasing. "Get on with it, Potter!" he ordered him, reverting to Harry's last name in his annoyance.

Harry just grinned and gave a mighty tug, pulling Draco down a little, but the jeans came off, sliding over his slim hips and to the ground. Harry shoved them away, moving back up Draco's body, making sure to graze his hands over every inch of skin, knowing it would drive the blond crazy.

By the time Harry made it even with Draco's face, he was writhing underneath him, cursing Harry and begging him to hurry up at the same time. Harry lowered his body, grinding himself into Draco; now only a thin layer of cloth separated them. Draco threw his head back and groaned loudly.

Harry reached down with one hand and shoved it underneath Draco's boxers, stroking him roughly. Using his thumb, he spread the pre-cum over Draco's cock as he pumped the shaft a few times.

Draco spit out a few well-known obscenities as Harry continued to stroke him. Harry finally decided he'd had enough, though, and yanked Draco's boxers down and away. He pulled off his own with a little less finesse and tossed them away.

He looked around for his wand, but, since it was nowhere to be found, he grabbed up Draco's instead. He muttered a few spells and Draco's back arched entirely off the ground as he felt Harry insert a slick finger into his body.

Harry pressed the finger in deeper, thrusting it in softly, stretching Draco. He added a second finger just to be sure then scissored the two. Harry quickly removed them, no longer able to contain his arousal that was straining for release.

He grabbed Draco's hips and pulled them flush against his own, positioning the leaking head of his erection at Draco's entrance. Draco's legs were thrown up against Harry's shoulders as Harry pushed himself through the tight ring of muscles and into Draco's body. Harry clenched his teeth and closed his eyes as Draco's muscles squeezed around his cock as he drove himself further in.

He took a minute once he was fully sheathed within the tight, hot body to get his bearings. It wasn't until Draco shifted in absolute torture that he began to move.

"Harry-- fuck!" he cursed. "You better fucking--ah--move right now!"

Harry heeded his warnings and pulled out of his body, only to slam right back in, Draco's muscles engulfing his cock with every new thrust. Draco's hips slammed up to meet Harry's in a mating of heat.

Harry pounded into Draco's willing body, passion surrounding them as the thrusts became more erratic and fevered. Harry leaned forward and captured Draco's lips in a fiery kiss. It was broken when Harry gave a particularly forceful thrust, shooting a jolt of electricity through Draco.

"Fuck, Harry, right there! Don't stop!" Draco cried, losing all sense of reasoning. 

Harry obeyed immediately, driving his cock as far as it would go into Draco's receptive body. Draco's muscles clenched around Harry's cock as he slammed in once more.

Draco's echoing cries could be heard over the pitch as he came hard all over Harry's chest. His head was thrown back as he gave a lingering cry. The sound of it shot through Harry, and he knew he couldn't hold on. He felt himself climaxing as he shot his load inside Draco. He gave a few last, reckless thrusts as his climax washed over him, leaving him feeling slightly drained, and yet energized all at the same time.

He collapsed next to Draco, rolling over onto his back and grinning stupidly up at the star-strewn sky. He heard Draco move beside him and felt a hand on his chest. He felt Draco nuzzle into his neck and take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He pressed a soft kiss just below Harry's ear.

"You know, I kind of like this sneaking-out-in-the-middle-of-the-night-to-fuck thing," Draco murmured into Harry's ear. 

Harry smiled and rolled his eyes at the sky. "You would."

"I do."

"And you haven't told anyone, have you?"

"Fuck no!"

"Oh, good," Harry said. "Because if you do," Harry turned to Draco suddenly and his eyes glowed scarlet, "I will kill you."

Harry shot up, drenched in sweat and breathing as though he'd just run a mile. It took him a moment to realize where he was. All was dark and beside him he could make out two lumpy forms sleeping on the floor.

Outside, the sun was barely breaking, a tiny line of light coming over the horizon. Birds were chirping loudly and the drip of rainwater could be heard falling off the many trees.

Harry wiped the sweat off his face and stood up, trying to get the dream out of his mind. He walked to the window and set his hands on the ledge, looking out. The rain from the previous day had stopped. A low mist hung around the base of the trees, giving it an eerie feeling. A feeling of unease hung over Harry as he stood at the window.

As he turned away, he didn't see the shadow move in the bushes just beyond the edge of the path. He walked back into the living room and sat down at the table in the corner. He grabbed his bag and opened it up. He took out the Pensieve, first making sure that Ron and Hermione were still asleep.

He un-shrunk it and unsealed it. With another quick glance around, he prodded the top of the swirling memories. The memories spun for a moment, becoming a blur of silver, then slowed down to reveal a room that Harry was sure looked familiar.

He was on the verge of taking a closer look when he heard a noise from one of the sleeping figures. It appeared that Hermione was waking up. Harry quickly grabbed the Pensieve, the room disappearing into shimmering silver fog again, and sealed and shrunk it then stuffed it back into his bag.

Hermione yawned and stretched before sitting up. Her hair was as frizzy as ever, more so because of the rain from the day before. She got up, still yawning, and saw Harry at the table. She walked over and sat down next to him.

"'Morning, Harry," she greeted him softly. "Did you sleep well?"

"Er... sort of," Harry admitted. 

Hermione gave him a sympathetic look. Harry knew she just thought he was having dreams of Dumbledore's death, but he wasn't. He couldn't tell her what he was really dreaming about. It would be too much a betrayal of her trust, plus she probably wouldn't believe him anyway, even with her intelligence level.

They were silent for a while, listening to Ron's snores. Hermione was gazing out the window, her eyebrows furrowed in thought. After a moment or two, she turned to Harry, her expression concerned.

"I don't think we should stay here, Harry," she said, in a low voice.

Harry looked around, too, then. Outside, the sun was rising faster, a gold gild streaming into the room and over where Ron still lay. The birds weren't as loud as Harry remembered. The same feeling of unease washed over him once more.

"Why not?" he asked her, also keeping his voice low.

"We're not safe here. There's something-- It just doesn't feel right," she whispered, shaking her head and looking out the window. Harry looked down at Ron, who was shifting, apparently waking up.

He sat up and yawned, stretching out his arms. He blinked tiredly and pushed himself up. He walked, swaying slightly, over to where Harry and Hermione sat in a tense silence.

"'Morning all! What are we--"

"Shh!" Hermione hissed, her eyes wide, and Ron stopped immediately.

"What?" he whispered, looking from Hermione to Harry. Harry looked tense, listening intently. By now, he knew when to trust Hermione's instincts.

Hermione swallowed thickly and glanced up at Ron, a fearful expression on her face. "I don't think we're alone," she whispered.

"What do you mean?" Ron's voice was now low and worried, his eyes darting around the room as if to find someone hidden in the shadows.

"I think we're being watched," she said quietly. Her eyes went once more to the window, and Harry now realized he could hear no birds.

He got up from the table slowly, his bag slung over his shoulder and his wand clutched tightly in his hand. Ron and Hermione also rose, both their hands gripping their wands. They both quickly retrieved their bags and backed up next to Harry.

Together, they stood by the table, unsure of what to do or what was happening. A kind of fear was gripping Harry's chest. _This is it. It's officially begun._

Harry turned sharply as he heard a noise outside the window, like a twig breaking, much like Ron had done the day before, but, this time, Ron was right beside him and he knew it wasn't him.

All three visibly tensed at the sound, staring at the window. No one could be seen outside it. They moved closer together, though it was quite impossible. All of their heads turned as the doorknob rattled.

"Fuck," Harry breathed and Hermione elbowed him sharply in the ribs. They nearly jumped out of their skin as a shout came from outside.

"It's locked! Stand back, I'll blow it out! Go around the side, you idiots!"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione backed against the wall, though they knew that was not the best idea. There came the noise of counting and an explosion as the front door shattered into a million shards of wood, flying all over the living room.

They covered their faces as the pieces came flying back at them. When they lowered them, through the dust and debris, they could see the outline of two people standing in the doorway, wands out.

 

~~**~~

A/N: Okay, I'm tired of writing my French "novel" so I'm taking a break and updating this :) I need to hurry up if the real book is coming out in July... Maybe we'll kick this up to 2 updates a week? Maybe... Please review.


	8. Unpleasant Surprises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry has four goals: Find the Horcruxes, kill Voldemort, avenge Dumbledore, and, most importantly, find and save Draco.

  
Author's notes: Harry has four goals: Find the Horcruxes, kill Voldemort, avenge Dumbledore, and, most importantly, find and save Draco.

~Sequel to Falling Away with You~  


* * *

*

Harry barely ducked as a jet of red light flashed past his face, ruffling his hair. Ron and Hermione scattered out of the way as curses began flying, crashing through the walls of the house, whipping past them with furious anger.

Harry dashed to the side and another flash of light barely missed his head. He stuck out his wand, aiming for the closest Death Eater.

" _Stupefy!_ " he yelled, and a jet of red light shot out of his wand, straight for the Death Eater. It missed, though, streaking just past the Death Eater's ear.

"You think you can get me, Potter?!" a jeering voice called through the dust and flashes of light. Harry neither knew, nor cared, who it was; he just knew he had to get out of there alive.

He saw the other Death Eater advancing on Hermione, who shrieked as a blue slash flew through the air at her. She ducked, but not fast enough.

"Ow!" he heard her cry, but he didn't stop to look.

More curses were streaming out of the wand of the Death Eater in front of him, bouncing everywhere. One spell hit the table behind Harry, reducing it to smoking cinders.

He watched the smoke curl upwards for just a second before coming to his senses and darting the other way.

" _Impedimenta!_ " he cried, as he came upon Hermione's attacker. The hooded figure faltered in his step, but not for long. Hermione was holding her sleeve to her cheek, and Harry could see a slash of blood running across it.

She made a slashing motion with her wand and a jet of purple light shot out of the end of it, hitting the slowed Death Eater in the chest. He keeled over into a ball on the floor and Harry and Hermione took off the other way.

Harry faltered as something grabbed onto the back of his shirt. He whipped around, ripping himself from its grip. He now saw the Death Eater that had been attacking him up close. Harry's jaw dropped and he was momentarily shocked beyond words.

"Stan?!" he exclaimed. He was staring into the pimply face of the once-conductor of the Knight Bus. Even Hermione was shocked into forgetting what was going on.

"Yep, it's me," Stan crowed in a joyous voice. "You dinnit think nuffink when you met me, didja? Well, little ol' Stan idn't the idiot he's made out to be, in'ee?"

"What-- but you're--" Harry was too flabbergasted to say anything. He had been convinced of Stan's innocence the year before.

Stan's eyes darkened as he glared at Harry, his hand tightening around his wand. "I'm wha', 'Arry? Not the type? Not someone oo'd join with You Know 'Oo?"

"Well... no!" Harry said, completely surprised. Hermione was staring at Stan too; they had momentarily forgotten Ron, who was nowhere to be seen.

"You listen up, 'Arry," Stan said in a dangerous voice. "Maybe 'e gives me what I need; Maybe I don't need nuffink you got. 'E'll give it to me."

Stan backed up then, raising his wand high, and Harry and Hermione suddenly realized what was going on. Harry grabbed his wand tightly, bringing it down hard through the air.

" _Sectumsempra!_ " he yelled, and a burst of crimson erupted from Stan's chest before he'd even got his spell out. Harry and Hermione stood there for a moment, staring down at Stan, identical looks of shock on their faces.

It wasn’t until they heard a panicked cry from the kitchen that they came back to their senses. They had completely forgotten about Ron, having lost him in their own battles. They turn tail and dashed into the kitchen to find two more Death Eaters that had come in from the back.

" _Impedimenta!_ " Harry yelled, hitting one of them in the back. Ron was struggling backwards but was having a time of it due to the fact that his left leg appeared to be crumpled underneath him.

"Ron, are you okay?!" Harry called, as the second Death Eater turned to him. Hermione sneaked behind his back to where Ron stood and was helping Ron towards the door.

"Fine!" Ron called back.

Harry stumbled backwards as the second Death Eater bore down upon him. His heart was beating in his chest. The Death Eater made a slashing motion, bringing his wand down hard across Harry's face.

Harry's head snapped back as an invisible whip cut his face. He could feel a drip of warm blood oozing out of the cut. He dodged another curse, flinging himself to the side and scrambling around a chair that was situated around a ruined table.

The Death Eater aimed another curse at Harry, who ducked and heard the spell blast a hole in the top of the chair. He pushed the chair away hastily, moving back, closer to the door. He knew he just had to escape.

The other Death Eater was beginning to come out of Harry's curse, standing up straight and turning to Harry, his teeth bared angrily. Harry didn't see him, though, his eyes still on the second one that was advancing on him.

"Tag, you're it," a deep, harsh voice came from under the black hood. Harry's eyes widened and he struggled backwards. His legs, it seemed, did not want to work.

The Death Eater raised his wand again, but Harry was ready this time.

_Levicorpus!_ he thought quickly, and in a flash of blinding light, the Death Eater was turned upside down, dangling by his foot.

"Harry!" A high-pitched shriek caught Harry's attention, and he whirled around to see the first Death Eater with his wand already raised and about to come down.

" _Protego!_ " Harry shouted, bringing his wand down hard in front of him, an invisible shield springing up in front of him momentarily. The curse rebounded, shooting off and breaking one of the windows. The sound of breaking glass filled the room, shards flying everywhere.

Harry dashed to the side just as a jet of white light barely missed his heels. He whipped around and saw the upside-down Death Eater leering at him from under his hood.

" _Stupefy!_ " he cried, sending the charm straight at the Death Eater and hitting him directly in his chest.

Harry ran to where Hermione was tugging Ron towards the door, trying to support him on his one good leg. Harry grabbed Ron's other shoulder, trying to speed up the process. 

He let go of the shoulder abruptly as another flash of gold filled the room. He twisted around, seeing the last Death Eater coming towards him, a manic gleam in the hooded eyes.

"I'll get you, Potter!" he cried, lunging forward and shooting another spell.

Harry yelped in pain as the curse grazed his elbow, sending a searing pain through his whole body. It took great difficulty to move his arm after that, wrenching it through the air. He began to panic as the Death Eater advanced on the three of them.

He was just thinking that he sure hadn't lasted long on his own when a blast of blue light erupted from the tip of Ron's wand, sending the Death Eater flying backwards, landing in a heap on the floor.

The man stirred, groaning softly, as Harry and Hermione seized Ron, dragging him outside since his one leg wasn't working. They could hear yells coming from inside the house and knew it wouldn't be long until the Death Eaters came after them.

They struggled through the trees, away from the house; Ron struggling to hold his weight and Harry trying to force his arm to move. They only got about twenty feet away from the house before they heard a shout and knew they had to make a run for it.

Harry looked at Ron and Hermione for a second, sharing a thought between all three. Harry gripped Ron’s arm tightly, and Hermione the other one. In a second, they concentrated hard and turned, disappearing in a loud Crack that echoed through the trees. The agonized cries of the remaining Death Eaters could be heard for miles thereafter.

***

They reappeared on a small patch of grass in the middle of a big city. Harry and Hermione set Ron down and his leg immediately crumpled. Harry grabbed Ron with his good arm and pulled him forward, Hermione behind, helping.

Harry gripped his wand tightly, his heart pounding madly, as he walked up the grass a little, stopping just before the patch ended. They stood there for a moment in silence until a door suddenly materialized out of thin air, followed by the entire house.

Harry seized the doorknob, wrenched it open and pulled Ron inside. Hermione hurried in after, shutting the door quietly behind them. A muffled silence fell over them as they guided Ron into the kitchen. He collapsed into one of the kitchen chairs and breathed deeply.

Hermione came in after, slamming her pack down on the table, causing everyone to jump. Harry moved over to lean on the counter, trying to calm himself and convince himself that they were safe.

He watched as Hermione pulled book after book out of her bag. He had known she had packed books; what else would she have brought? After the sixth book, she gave a relieved sigh as she found the one she wanted. She opened it hastily, riffling through it until she found the page she wanted.

She turned to Ron, swiveling his chair around and stretching the crumpled leg out in front of him. She glanced back at the book, then pointed her wand at Ron's leg. A yellow glow came out of the wand for a moment, surrounding the leg.

Ron stared at it in amazement as it continued to glow. Finally, Hermione moved the wand back and looked at Ron's leg closely. Ron stretched out his leg tentatively, then his expression brightened.

"Wow, Hermione," he said, amazed.

Hermione just ignored him and beckoned to Harry. "Harry, come here," she said, indicating he should sit.

He did so, trying his best to ignore the throbbing pain in his arm. She reached up to touch the congealing blood on his cheek, then turned, rummaging in her bag for a moment. She came up with a washcloth and a small bottle of something.

She used her wand to wet the cloth, cleaning off the dried blood from Harry's cut. Then she opened the bottle, dipping her finger into it and coming out with some kind of thick potion. She spread it thinly over Harry's cut and he felt a tingling sensation.

"Where'd you get that?" Harry asked once she was done, reaching up to feel his cheek, noting that the cut was no longer there.

"Made it," she replied, shrugging. "Now, give me your arm."

He held out his stinging arm, wondering what had been done to it. He gave a hiss of pain as Hermione pulled it toward herself. Hermione eyed it, her expression becoming more nettled. "This is different," she murmured.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, growing concerned.

"Well," Hermione said. "It seems like it's a combination of a Stinging Hex and Crippling Curse."

Harry looked down at his arm that appeared completely normal on the outside, he just couldn't move it and it felt like it was on fire. He used his other arm to turn it over and noticed a small, red welt across his wrist; remnants of a Stinging Hex.

"But you can fix it, right?" Harry asked anxiously.

"I don't know... I can try," she said hesitantly.

The next ten minutes were taken up with Hermione muttering spells under her breath and tapping Harry's arm, occasionally asking, "Any better?" only to receive a cold glare in return. She paused once or twice, contemplating the arm, sometimes riffling through her book and then trying another spell or two.

Harry was beginning to think that he would never be cured when Hermione said something else and gave Harry's wrist a hard tap.

"Ouch!" he exclaimed, pulling his arm out of her grip and rubbing his wrist. Hermione just sat back and smirked knowingly. It took Harry a moment to realize that the pain he was feeling was now because of Hermione's slap and not the curse. "Hermione, you did it!"

"Yes," she replied slowly, looking back at her book. "Maybe we ought to make a note of this for later... just in case." She said the last few words with a glance at Harry.

Harry sighed. With the pain from his arm gone, his brain was free to think of what had just happened. Why had the Death Eaters attacked? They had all been so unprepared. Harry guessed he should have known Voldemort might try something like that to catch him off his guard, just on the off-chance Harry might not make it and save him the trouble later.

He couldn't believe he had led his friends into this kind of danger. They didn't know half of what they were getting into. They didn't know the whole reason for this anyway. Harry wondered if Draco had known anything of the last attack. He supposed not. He knew that Voldemort must not be pleased with Draco, and therefore not divulge any kind plan to him at the moment.

"Why'd we come here?" Ron asked, not noticing the silence that had befallen the table.

Harry looked around, his heart falling. He had thought that he might not ever have to return to the dismal place, full of such dreary memories, but it had been his first thought when it had come to escaping. 

His eyes traveled over the dark kitchen, noticing that the spiders seemed to have moved back in the absence of a regular inhabitant. Dust covered the countertop and Harry noticed that the burn from where the soup had skidded onto the table over two years ago was still present.

He sighed, wishing he hadn't thought to come here, but it was the safest place he knew of at the moment. He looked back to Hermione, who was re-shrinking her books and putting them back in her bag. Ron was staring at the table silently. It was as Harry looked at him that he had a sudden thought.

"Ron," he said suddenly. "Where did you learn a spell like that?" he asked, referring to the one Ron had cast back in Godric's Hollow. 

Ron looked up, seemingly distracted from his vacant staring. "What? Oh, that, well, Hermione's been making me read..." he said, glancing at Hermione, who gave him a satisfied smile.

"Well, you sure saved us," Harry said gratefully.

"Saved us?" Ron repeated. "You saved me, mate! I was nearly a goner."

Harry rolled his eyes but couldn't help smiling slightly. Suddenly, though, he frowned. "I can't believe it was Stan," he said darkly, and Hermione sighed.

"Who?" Ron asked, confused.

"Stan Shunpike, conductor of the Knight Bus," Harry told him then launched into the story of how he had been one of the Death Eaters.

"You mean that crazy bloke the Ministry arrested last year and finally let go a month ago really _was_ working for You Know Who?" Ron asked incredulously.

"Apparently," Harry muttered. He couldn't believe he had fought against Stan's capture. He'd been so naive.

"You didn't know," Hermione said quietly, as if she could read his thoughts. 

He looked at her sharply. She just nodded and looked away. For a fleeting second, Harry had the urge to confess everything to her; his aching desire to find Draco, tell her why he was going to such lengths to retrieve someone she believed he hated. But it was gone the next second as he thought that it wouldn't matter. They would be furious and never understand.

Instead, Harry sighed again and got to his feet, going to the cupboard to see if there was any food, leaving Ron and Hermione sitting in silence at the long, dust-covered table of number twelve Grimmauld Place.

 

~~**~~

A/N: Hey, sorry I forgot to update this here, but it's here now! Please review!


	9. Grimmauld Place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry has four goals: Find the Horcruxes, kill Voldemort, avenge Dumbledore, and, most importantly, find and save Draco.

  
Author's notes: Harry has four goals: Find the Horcruxes, kill Voldemort, avenge Dumbledore, and, most importantly, find and save Draco.

~Sequel to Falling Away with You~  


* * *

*

"Do not lie to me."

"M-my lord, they were better prepared than we had expected."

Voldemort rose from his throne-like chair and glared down at the Death Eater before him. His scarlet eyes flashed as he listened to the Death Eater beseech him.

"What were your orders, Rodolphus?" Voldemort hissed in his high and cold voice. 

The Death Eater, Rodolphus, visibly restrained himself from shuddering at the tone from his master. "W-we were to follow the Potter boy and his companions, learn his habits, his weaknesses, whom he trusts, what he does..." Rodolphus trailed off. He knew he had done wrong.

"Did I order you to attack them?" Voldemort asked, his voice full of cold malice.

"No, my lord," he answered, his head bowed to the floor in his shame and fear.

"And yet, you did, despite my orders," Voldemort commented, in a would-be calm voice, but his words held promise of pain.

"My lord," Rodolphus intervened quickly. "It was not my idea. I tried to stop them, I--"

"Liar," Voldemort hissed, his eyes flashing dangerously as Rodolphus tried to defend himself. He quickly stopped talking. "You did not stop them. You were eager for battle. Perhaps following my instructions had become boring for you? Perhaps you hungered for some action? Perhaps serving me does not appeal to you anymore."

"No, my lord, I--"

"Enough! Perhaps the time is right to remind you why you entered into my service."

Rodolphus' eyes widened as Voldemort fingered his wand lovingly; Voldemort's scarlet eyes narrowed as he continued to watch him. He walked slowly toward Rodolphus, circling around him in the low-lit room. Rodolphus shuddered and braced himself for the inevitable pain.

"One more thing, Rodolphus," Voldemort commented suddenly, still circling the trembling man. "Where is Potter now? What has become of him?"

"I... I don't know, my lord," Rodolphus responded quietly. "We can't locate him."

"You let him escape?" Voldemort's tone was soft and foreboding.

"W-we tried but he Disapparated before we were well enough to follow him. Instead, we tended to Shunpike and Nott."

"Your carelessness may have cost us much," Voldemort said quietly. "You are not to help the injured. Leave them behind and go after Potter. That is your only job... and you have failed."

Rodolphus' eyes became rounder as Voldemort advanced on him once more. "No, my lord, please! I beg of you! Don't--"

The rest of his sentence was drowned out by the screams of excruciating pain that issued from his mouth as Voldemort lowered his wand. Rodolphus writhed on the ground, screams of horror echoing around the small room.

Inside his dark room, Draco's head snapped up, staring across the room where he knew the door to be. He listened for a few moments as a man's shrieks of pain seeped through the walls. Beside him, Nagini slithered closer to the door, her head raised as if it interested her greatly.

The screams eventually ceased and Nagini came back to Draco. He could have sworn he saw a look of triumph gleaming in her narrowed eyes. She saw him watching and let out a low hiss as she slithered into a ball next to his feet.

_I have got to get out of here,_ Draco thought, staring down at the resting snake.

Outside, Voldemort lifted his wand, a cruel smile twisting his thin lips. "Do you remember why you are here, Rodolphus?" 

The man on the floor pushed himself upright, his arms shaking and barely holding his weight. He nearly collapsed once or twice but was finally able to stand up. "Yes, my lord," he murmured.

"And you will follow my orders?"

"Yes, my lord."

"You may go." 

Rodolphus started across the room but stopped as Voldemort's cruel voice floated back to him. "I expect better service in the future. Next time I may not be so generous." Rodolphus inclined his head barely then left the room.

Voldemort gave a satisfied smile and settled himself back in his throne-like chair in the middle of the room, his eyes wandering to a door opposite him where he knew a blond boy waited to receive his punishment in the days to come.

***

Harry sat in his bedroom at Grimmauld Place staring blankly at the blank portrait next to his bed. At the moment, he could hear no noises coming from it. He supposed Phineas was busy at Hogwarts.

On his bed sat the book Hermione had given him for his birthday. It was open, but he wasn't looking at it. He had been, but he was much too preoccupied with thoughts of other things to concentrate on learning new spells.

He sighed audibly and shut the book, pushing it to the side. He didn't know where Ron and Hermione were at the moment. He had been up in his room all morning. He couldn't stand not doing anything, but he couldn't figure out what to do! He needed to find a Horcrux and quickly. It would not do well if Voldemort attempted an actual attack and Harry had no chance.

At that moment, an owl came swooping in his window. He was surprised. No owls knew where Grimmauld Place was save Hedwig and the Weasleys' owls. He looked at it closely; it appeared to be a school owl. Clutched in its beak was a thick letter bearing the Hogwarts crest.

Harry took the envelope and the owl took off out the window. Harry supposed McGonagall had told the owl where to go. He looked back at the letter and slit it open. On the first sheet of parchment were the familiar words,

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_The new term will begin on September the First. The Hogwart's Express will leave from King's Cross station. A list of next year's books is enclosed._

_-Professor Sinistra, Deputy Headmistress_

Harry read the letter, a cold feeling seeping into his stomach. McGonagall was no longer the Deputy Headmistress. She was the Headmistress. He suddenly felt a wave of fury as he stared at the letter.

Grabbing it, he tore it into a million tiny pieces, littering his bedspread with its remnants. 

"Fuck!" he cursed loudly, tearing the miniscule pieces even smaller. When he was done, he sat on his bed, breathing deeply, trying to control his temper. For some reason beyond his control, tiny pinpricks of tears gathered at the corners of his eyes as he stared down at his paper-littered bed.

He took a shaky breath, willing himself not to cry. He stared hard at the bed, holding back the gathering tears. Finally, he took a breath and closed his eyes momentarily. When he opened them, he took his hand and swept the pieces to the floor, watching them flutter down lightly.

He gave a start as there was a sudden knock on the door. He told himself to calm down then called to whoever it was. "Come in!"

The door creaked open slowly and someone stepped tentatively into the room. Harry looked up and then an elated smile came across his features. He bounded from his bed, rushing for the visitor.

"Remus!"

Remus Lupin smiled sadly as Harry stopped in front of him, looking at him happily. Remus gave Harry a light hug and Harry grinned. They walked back over to the bed and sat down.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked eagerly. He hadn't expected to see someone from the Order so soon.

"I came to see how you were doing," Remus replied, unable to hide the seriousness in his voice. "And Molly would kill me if I didn't. You haven't forgotten this is the Headquarters for the Order?"

"Well, no, but I haven't seen anyone except Ron and Hermione for that past couple days."

"Well, you wouldn't," Remus told him. "Most of them are out... doing duty." He didn't elaborate and Harry didn't ask. "But how are you, Harry? No one's heard anything since you left the Burrow."

"I'm okay," Harry said, shrugging. "Hermione fixed my arm pretty well. It still kind of stings sometimes, but I think it just needs some time."

"Heal? Why did she need to heal you?" Remus' voice was suddenly full of sharp concern. 

Harry looked confused for a second then remembered. "Oh," he said, realizing. "You don't know. Well, we were attacked."

"What?!" Remus exclaimed, staring at Harry. 

Harry shrugged and told him all about their little run-in with the Death Eaters. When he was done, Remus just stared at him, a dark shadow passing over his face.

"I knew you weren't safe," he said darkly. "Harry, you shouldn't have gone off like this."

"But I have to!" Harry said pleadingly.

"But why? Why can't you stay where you're safe, with the Order? Can't you do whatever it is from there?"

"No, I--" Harry stopped. He couldn't tell Remus one of the most pressing reasons for his running away.

"You what?"

"I just have to do this on my own. I just have to," Harry said lamely. He _wanted_ to tell Remus about Draco, that he needed to save him and, in order to do that, he had be stealthy, search for him, find him and get him alone. It was too dangerous otherwise. No more people needed to die because of him.

Remus looked at him and shook his head sadly. Harry was like a son to him. To lose him would be disastrous, not only for the wizarding world. Remus didn't want to lose Harry. He thought he must worry about him nearly as much as Mrs. Weasley did.

"Alright, Harry," he agreed reluctantly. "But be careful. Obviously, you aren't safe anywhere. Voldemort must have his Death Eaters keeping tabs on you. Who knows what they've learned already."

Harry nodded. He had figured that out already. He wondered why they had attacked more than anything else. It just didn't seem very intelligent to attack with only four people, even if they did outnumber them.

"Can you believe it was Stan?" Harry asked. "And I actually fought for him!"

"We can't always tell people's true characters, Harry. Don't feel too bad about it," Remus said consolingly. "Who knows what Voldemort offered him for service. We may never know. The most we can hope is that he'll learn his lesson by the end."

"He might already be dead..." Harry said slowly. "I don't know if they saved him from my curse."

Remus gave Harry a sad look. "Harry, in war you can't have regrets. There is no sympathy for your enemy, especially if they have none for you. The Death Eaters will show you no mercy. Giving them some would be a mistake. You'll learn that."

Harry looked at Remus, sitting in silence. His words were hauntingly true and Harry knew it. He had to face the reality of war. People were going to die and you weren't allowed to question your decisions. What happens, happens and there was no way to stop it.

"Yeah, I know," Harry said softly, averting his gaze to his bedspread. 

Remus nodded and stood up from the bed. "I have to go, Harry, but I'm glad you're safe for now. Please try to remain that way." Harry looked up to see Remus giving him a sad smile. Harry nodded and Remus turned from him, opening the door and disappearing into the landing beyond.

Harry sighed as the door shut quietly behind him. He glanced around the room as if searching for some form of comfort. He wished Draco was there. He needed him to tell him it would be okay; that he was doing the right thing.

The snake on his bracelet let out a tiny hiss and Harry looked down at it. It was looking at him; its miniscule green scales glittered in the sunlight coming in the window. The clouds had finally broken but still lingered. The sun was pushing through a tiny hole and into the dingy room in which Harry was.

Harry's glance moved from the snake and landed on his bag that was propped up against the bedpost. He hesitated a second then snatched it up, opening it and taking out the mini Pensieve. He un-shrunk it and set it on the bed in front of him.

The silvery contents swirled innocently, twinkling in the sunlight. Harry took his wand and prodded the top as always, hoping that, maybe this time, it might show something useful.

He bent over the top as a room materialized in the basin. It was a room Harry recognized. It was the drawing room at Grimmauld Place, just one story below. Harry was confused as to why this memory of his was surfacing. He squinted his eyes, looking into the Pensieve, trying to make out what was going on, but he couldn't see much but a few people standing in the room.

He decided it might be worth it to take a look, so he took a deep breath and plunged, head first, into the swirling fog. He fell through nothingness for a while until he found his feet firmly planted on the ground in Grimmauld Place's drawing room.

He saw himself, Ron, Hermione, the twins, Sirius, Mrs. Weasley and Ginny all standing around a large bookshelf. Harry remembered cleaning off that bookshelf several years ago; the summer he had spent at Grimmauld Place.

"Alright, you lot," Mrs. Weasley said. "There are a lot of foul things on these shelves, so _be careful_." 

Harry saw the twins exchange mischievous looks before starting to take things off the shelves, every so often slipping something in their pockets. Harry wondered why he had come into this memory. There was nothing significant about it.

He watched as a black box bit Sirius' hand, causing it to develop a crusty shell.

"Must be Wartcap Powder in there," Pensieve Sirius said to the rest of the group.

Harry watched at the "cleaning" went on, seeing things being tossed into a bag quite unceremoniously. He was getting quite bored and wondering when the memory might end so he could go back to lying on his bed, feeling guilty for lying about while Draco was in danger.

The door creaked open but Harry took no notice, still watching as everyone threw random junk into the sacks. It wasn't until something walked right through him that Harry noticed another presence in the room.

Kreacher, the house-elf, was sidling up to the bag covertly, making sure everyone else was dually occupied before dipping his hand inside and quietly rummaging through the discarded treasures.

Harry rolled his eyes and sneered at the ugly elf. He despised Kreacher with all his might no matter what Dumbledore or Hermione had ever told him. He watched the dirty house-elf quietly riffle through the sack, sneaking things into his loincloth.

Kreacher bent over the sack, secretly looking for things to smuggle away. He came out with something from the bottom of the bag that caught Harry's attention. A glitter of gold shimmered in the dingy light. None of the people in the room noticed a thing, still intent on wresting things from the shelves.

Harry moved forward, looking closely at the object in Kreacher's hand. It was a rather large, golden locket. Harry's eyes widened as he stared at the locket. His heart nearly stopped as he watched Kreacher slip it under his loincloth along with all his other treasures and sneak from the room. 

Harry followed after him, a furious pounding in his ears as Kreacher slipped from the room. Harry wrenched open the door to follow him but all he found was white mist. He stopped for a second, but he had to follow Kreacher. He took a step forward and, all of a sudden, felt a falling sensation. Next thing he knew, he was back on his bed in Grimmauld Place, staring at the Pensieve in horrified recognition.

The memories were once again a silver blur as he stared unseeingly at the top of the basin. His mind was a whirl with thoughts as he relived what he'd just witnessed. How could he have been so stupid?

He bolted off the bed, heart pounding madly. He had to find that locket! He looked around like the room might tell him where it was. He stopped after a minute, realizing that was no way to go about it. There was only one way to find out how that memory ended.

"Kreacher!"

 

~~**~~

A/N: Yay, I'm so excited for the next chapter! It's one of my fave chapter (and not just 'cause Kreacher's in it :)) hehe. Please review!


	10. The Noble and most Ancient House of--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry has four goals: Find the Horcruxes, kill Voldemort, avenge Dumbledore, and, most importantly, find and save Draco.

  
Author's notes: Harry has four goals: Find the Horcruxes, kill Voldemort, avenge Dumbledore, and, most importantly, find and save Draco.

~Sequel to Falling Away with You~  


* * *

*

A resounding crack filled the room as Kreacher appeared in front of Harry. He looked as filthy and decrepit as always. His bat-like ears quivered as he looked up at Harry from his hunched over position at Harry's feet.

"Master," he greeted him, then muttered under his breath, "the filthy half-blood dares summon me into the house of my forefathers, the noble and most ancient house of--"

"Kreacher!" Harry said, interrupting the elf's insane ramblings. "You took something from the drawing room two years ago, a locket!"

"Kreacher would not steal from his own home," the elf told Harry in a voice that pretended he was innocent. Then he added in an undertone, "Master is not worthy to walk in the Black house."

Harry just ignored the dark muttering and went on. "Where is it?!"

"Kreacher does not know— Kreacher would not tell the half-blood if it threatened death, no, he would not."

"Kreacher!" Harry said sternly, having had enough. "Tell me where the locket is right now! That is an order!"

The house-elf seemed to be struggling with himself. He couldn't disobey a direct order from his rightful master, no matter how much he despised him.

"Kreacher took it for safe-keeping," Kreacher told Harry evasively, then muttered, "Kreacher saves things from nasty little blood traitors, yes, he does. Oh, my poor Mistress, what would she say if she knew Kreacher let filth into her--"

"Kreacher!" Harry interrupted again. "Where is it?!"

"Kreacher will show you," Kreacher told Harry quite civilly, but then added, "the despicable thing wants to know where Kreacher hides his treasures he saves from the purging of the blood traitor. Kreacher will show him. Nasty, filthy, little beasts they are."

Harry sneered as he followed the old house-elf out of his bedroom and down the stairs. He was getting incredibly anxious to find the locket and see if it was what he thought it was. He followed the shuffling elf down the stairs and past the Entrance Hall.

Ron and Hermione were sitting at the kitchen table as Kreacher shuffled past, Harry following closely behind. They both looked flabbergasted as Harry and Kreacher passed.

"Harry, what is _that_ doing here?" Ron asked, pointing openly at the still-muttering elf.

Kreacher stopped and turned to Ron, his large eyes narrowing angrily. "The other nasty blood traitor is here also, besmirching my Mistress' house. Oh, what would my poor Mistress say if she knew what Kreacher--"

"I think I may have found something!" Harry said over Kreacher's dark undertones.

"And don't call him 'that', Ron!" Hermione said indignantly. Ron just rolled his eyes at her behind her back.

"And there is the Mudblood, once more dirtying the once noble and most ancient house of--"

"Oh, shut up," Harry snapped. "Now, where is it?"

"Kreacher is showing Master," the elf said politely, then, "Master pokes and pries into things that are not his. Master does not deserve the--"

"Go!" Harry shouted, unable to control his impatience or temper any longer. "Show me where it is!"

"Yes, Master," Kreacher muttered grudgingly, and for once did not add anything else. He led the way through the kitchen, Ron and Hermione now trailing behind, very confused.

They came to where Kreacher's old bedroom had been; the tiny corner underneath the boiler. Inside, it smelled just as bad as it had two years ago, despite not having been slept in since then.

Harry's eyes roved over the contents of the room. There were the broken pictures of Bellatrix Lestrange, which Harry vowed to destroy as soon as possible. There was the quilt Hermione had knitted Kreacher, untouched and still wrapped.

In a far corner, Kreacher climbed. He rummaged for a minute or two and came back out with the glittering locket Harry had now seen twice in the Pensieve. He held it out and Harry snatched it up immediately.

A look of understanding passed over Ron’s and Hermione's faces as they stared at the locket. Harry turned it over slowly to see the ornate S emblazoned on the back of the locket.

He nearly forgot to breathe for a second as he looked at it. He was holding a Horcrux in his hand. He stared at it with wide eyes for a moment, not sure what he should even do with it.

A snuffling noise brought him out of his shock. Kreacher was riffling through his blankets, looking for forgotten pieces of food.

"Kreacher, how do you open this?" Harry asked pressingly, hoping that maybe the elf might just know.

"Kreacher does not know," Kreacher told Harry. He then added in another dark undertone, "The little Master thinks Kreacher knows all dark things but Kreacher does not. Nasty half-blood demands answers to questions Kreacher does not know..."

Harry groaned in frustration and rolled his eyes. Ron was watching Kreacher with an expression of mingled disgust and amusement. Hermione looked at him almost pityingly. Harry didn't care.

"Kreacher, go back to Hogwarts and stay there!" he ordered.

Kreacher bowed low, all the while muttering to himself. "Filthy half-blood besmirches the noble and most ancient house of Black. He is not fit to wipe the slime from my Mistress' shoes. Oh my poor Mistress, what would she say if she saw what Kreacher had let into her house! Poor Kreacher is forced to serve the half-blood and his traitorous friends--"

"GO!" Harry exploded, his voice filling the entire kitchen. Kreacher did not wait another moment. He was gone in a loud crack, leaving Harry, Ron, and Hermione in peace and quiet, staring at the glimmering gold locket in Harry's hand.

"I hate that elf," Harry muttered murderously to himself. Hermione frowned but Ron nodded in agreement.

"Harry," Hermione said in a cautious whisper. "Is that... Is that what I think it is?"

Harry nodded slowly, his attention now back on the cold locket clutched in his hand. Together, they all went into the kitchen and sat down at the table. Harry set down the locket in the middle between them and they all stared at it for a moment.

Ron was the first one to speak after several minutes of silence. "Well... what do we do with it?" he asked tentatively.

"We destroy it," Harry answered swiftly. He still couldn't believe that it had been under his nose the entire time and he'd never realized.

"But how?!" Ron exclaimed. "Have you ever read somewhere where it tells you how to destroy one of these things? They don't even tell you what they are!"

"How did Dumbledore destroy them?" Hermione asked carefully, as if she was afraid of upsetting Harry.

"He never said," Harry replied quietly. The mention of Dumbledore made his stomach churn.

"Well, there's got to be a way," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "You destroyed that one in the diary, right? So it is possible."

"Yeah..." Harry said slowly, thinking back. He had used snake poison to pierce the diary, thereby killing Voldemort's soul. 

"Try opening it," Hermione suggested. 

Harry grabbed the locket from the center of the table and tugged fruitlessly at the golden clasp. He shrugged and set it down. "It won't budge."

"I didn't suppose it would," Hermione said, frowning slightly as she looked at the locket.

"Couldn't we try smashing it or something?" Ron asked suddenly. Harry and Hermione looked at each other.

"It's worth a shot," Harry said.

Ron took out his wand and cleared his throat. Both Harry and Hermione scooted back their chairs, wary of Ron's wand. He waved it above his head, then brought it slashing through the air. There was a resounding sound of a gong that shook Harry in his seat.

Both Ron and Hermione put their hands over their ears and waited for it to stop ringing. When it finally did, they took down their hands, shaking their heads like they were trying to get water out of their ears.

"You're really getting good at those silent spells," Harry commented, and Ron looked pleased.

"Hermione's been helping me," he said proudly.

"Well, that was good, but it didn't work," Hermione said, pointing at the locket that remained stubbornly closed and without a single dent.

"How are we supposed to get it open?" Harry asked woefully. If they couldn't even open it, they had no chance of destroying it.

"Do you think that maybe opening it would kill the Horcrux, by setting it loose?" Hermione asked thoughtfully.

Harry was silent for a moment, thinking it over. It did make sense that if the object in which the Horcrux was being stored was compromised, the soul would be too. That still didn't solve the problem of how to open it, though.

"That's probably true, Hermione, but how do we get it open?" He looked hopelessly at the locket glittering innocently on the table.

"Well, actually, Harry, I've been thinking," she said slowly.

"Well, that's a good thing!" Ron interjected hopefully, and Hermione just rolled her eyes.

"It seems that the only way to destroy a Horcrux is to kill it like it was a person, right? You poisoned the diary; that would kill someone. Maybe we need to find a way someone could be killed that could be applied to the locket."

Harry just stared at her. "Wow, Hermione. I am so glad you came along," he told her.

She blushed slightly, but otherwise disregarded the complement. "So what are ways you could kill someone?"

They spent the next half hour trying to come up with as many ways someone could die as possible. Most of their suggestions were completely useless and slightly ludicrous.

By the end, their suggestions were becoming less rational and more inventive.

"We could drop it from an airplane!"

"A what?"

"No, that wouldn't work. It can't be smashed, we already know that."

"But it's not technically smashing!"

"It is, Harry."

"What's an airmane?"

" Air _plane_."

"Same difference."

"Stop it, you two!" Hermione interjected. "This is getting us nowhere. We have to be really smart about this."

Ron and Harry exchanged a glance and looked at her. "Well then, that's your area," Harry told her. "We'll leave you to it."

They decided they needed a break and rose from the table, leaving Hermione to think in silence. Harry and Ron walked out into the foyer and leaned against the wall tiredly.

"I can't believe we found one," Ron said, sounding amazed. "How did you, Harry?"

"The Pensieve," Harry replied. "I saw it."

"You did?" Ron did not ask much more. He knew how reserved Harry was with the Pensieve and he didn't want to seem overly eager to know about it. He'd only ever seen it once when Harry had received it.

"Yeah, I saw Kreacher take it two years ago. You know, that summer we were all stuck here," Harry said quietly. It felt odd actually telling Ron what he had seen in the Pensieve. Normally, he kept it all to himself, but for some reason he just had the need to tell Ron how he'd found out.

"Wow," Ron breathed quietly. He didn't quite understand how the Pensieve worked, but Hermione had sort of explained it to him... in layman’s terms.

Harry didn't say anything. His mind was on the Pensieve once more. That memory was his and that must mean it was one of the ones Rose had seen. He wondered what other memories of his were in the Pensieve. He wondered if Rose had seen all that. Maybe she had just sensed it. She didn't seem like the typical Seer to Harry. She had a different way of doing things.

Harry and Ron stood outside the kitchen for a long time, falling into their own thoughts and not speaking much to each other. Harry slid down the wall to sit on the floor with his back against it. Ron soon joined him, staring off into space.

Harry wondered whether he would ever find Draco. So far, he hadn't done anything to find him. He hoped that Draco was not enduring too much pain. The thought was almost too much for Harry to handle. He felt so guilty for sitting safely inside Grimmauld Place while Draco was off somewhere, probably being tortured.

At night, he missed Draco's company. He felt empty without his warm body pressed against his. They fit perfectly together and Harry desperately needed him.

Outside, the sun began to set over the city of London. Red and gold bursts glided over the tops of the many houses outside the window. Harry and Ron still sat in the Entrance Hall in silence.

Harry thought that Ron had fallen asleep, and his own head was starting to nod as they sat in the warm glow of the setting sun. Harry felt his head fall forward on his chest but did nothing to stop it. His mind was finally slowing down. He'd spent the better part of the afternoon thinking about the Horcrux.

The elation he had felt when discovering it was nearly gone. All he wanted now was to destroy it. He knew it wouldn't be easy ,but Hermione had never yet failed him. Her theory seemed quite probable, and Harry was sure she could figure something out if no one else could.

"Harry! Ron!" A shout came from the kitchen, startling Harry out of the light doze he had fallen into. He jerked awake, staring at the kitchen door. Beside him, Ron gave a grunting snore and lifted his head, looking around, disoriented.

"Wha's going on?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.

"I think Hermione is calling us," Harry said slowly. He pushed himself off the floor with difficulty, yawning, and made his way into the kitchen, stumbling slightly in his tiredness.

Hermione was sitting at the table, a look of ecstatic triumph on her face. Harry and Ron sat back down in their original places at the table and looked at her.

"What?" Harry finally asked.

"Harry," Hermione whispered. "I think I've got it."

 

~~**~~

_  
A/N: Ahh, Kreacher. As much as I dislike him, writing him is absolutely hilarious :D Please review!_


	11. The Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry has four goals: Find the Horcruxes, kill Voldemort, avenge Dumbledore, and, most importantly, find and save Draco.

  
Author's notes: Harry has four goals: Find the Horcruxes, kill Voldemort, avenge Dumbledore, and, most importantly, find and save Draco.

~Sequel to Falling Away with You~  


* * *

*

The door creaked open, letting a tiny sliver of light fall into the pitch black room. Draco's eyes were fixed on the sliver, watching as a figure stepped through the slit and into the room, closing the door behind.

Draco's stomach gave a loud grumble. It had been two days, or so he guessed, since he'd had any food. At this point he would eat anything, even those candies Harry loved, those chocolate frogs. Draco had never cared for them; the chocolate was just a little too rich.

He heard the door shut with an ominous clang. From behind him, Nagini slithered forward, he head raised in striking position. She hissed at the intruder as he came closer.

Draco squinted through the dark, trying to make out who it was. He could hear the light footsteps of someone approaching. He heard the person stop, a few feet from him, and then there was silence.

Draco gave a sigh and sat back in the chair, waiting for something to happen. He hoped it wasn't Voldemort come to carry out his punishment already. Nagini moved forward, flicking out her tongue to taste the air. She backed away once she was done, having deemed the person acceptable. She did, however, curl up next to Draco and kept her eyes on the intruder.

Draco blinked as a light suddenly flared off to the side of him. One of the torches had been illuminated. Draco caught sight of a wand as it was stowed back in the pocket of the person in front of him.

Draco looked up and cast an appraising look over the man. "Blaise," he said in a pleasant, yet cold, voice. "You're back."

"I am here on the Dark Lord's orders," Blaise replied indifferently. "Do not think I desire to see you."

Draco said nothing. Beside him, Blaise's words seemed to have successfully pacified Nagini, who lowered her head and didn't pay them as much attention.

"What does He want?" Draco drawled.

"He wants what you're keeping from him," Blaise said coldly. He glanced down at Nagini, who had laid her head down on the floor and closed her eyes.

"I'm not keeping anything. He would do better to believe me and I could rejoin him and fight at his side," Draco lied smoothly.

Blaise was silent for a moment. Draco saw his hand slide covertly down to his pocket and grasp the handle of his wand. Nagini noticed nothing, her eyes still closed as she rested on the floor. He took it out and gave it a barely visible flick then stowed it back in his pocket.

The snake noticed nothing, still resting quite contently. Blaise watched her for a moment to make sure his spell had worked then leaned in closer to Draco.

"You might be able to fool the Dark Lord, Drake, but you can't fool me," he whispered in a dangerous voice.

"What would I be fooling you with?" Draco asked, sitting up straighter in his chair.

"I know you did something, Draco. Last year, you weren't the same, and it wasn't because of your mission. You're hiding something... from everyone."

"We all have our secrets," Draco replied coldly, looking Blaise straight in the eye. 

Blaise didn't flicker as Draco stared at him. "Yes, but some secrets can get you killed."

Draco desperately wanted to retort with, "Better dead than alive and serving the Dark Lord," but he knew it could cost him his life. Instead, he said nothing, holding Blaise's gaze until Blaise shook his head and looked away.

"You're too reckless, Draco," he told him. "The Dark Lord is not forgiving and never gives up. He's ruthless and won't stop to let you beg for forgiveness."

"I have done nothing to deserve this punishment," Draco retorted haughtily, never losing his true Malfoy manner.

"You haven't given him what he wants."

"I have given all that I have. There is nothing more," Draco said coldly, looking at Blaise.

Blaise looked down at Draco, his expression calculating. He leaned down, running his finger over Draco's cheek and Draco pulled away as best he could, glaring at Blaise.

"Your emotions might get the best of you someday," Blaise murmured. "Anger is best kept and used when truly needed."

Draco’s eyebrows came together as he pondered Blaise's words. Blaise glanced down at Nagini, who appeared to have fallen asleep. He reached into the pocket of his jeans and came out with piece of bread and some cheese. He slipped it into Draco's hands but said nothing.

Draco looked down at it and quickly hid it under his robes in case Nagini smelled it. He looked back up to see that Blaise was already halfway back across the room. He saw him brandish his wand once more. Draco felt the metal around his wrists grow warm for a second then cease.

Beside him, Nagini twitched in her sleep; unaware of anything that was occurring. Blaise sent Draco a dark smirk then opened the door and closed it with a bang. Draco was left in darkness as the light from the torch extinguished with the door.

He sighed quietly, glancing down at the sleeping snake. He took the food Blaise had given him and ate it quickly and quietly. He felt much better now that he'd eaten.

He settled back in the chair, once more failing to find a comfortable position in the hard wood of the chair. He crossed his legs out in front of him, wondering how much longer he would be forced to stay in the dark room alone. He wasn't sure whether facing Voldemort would be better or worse than dying of hunger.

He knew that Voldemort would be much worse. He was far more advanced in dark magic than Draco could ever hope, or want, to be. Draco knew he needed to escape from his prison. It was his only chance of staying alive. Even if Harry was looking for him, he would probably never find him. The only way to find Harry, to feel safe once more, was to escape somehow.

Draco thought it must be impossible to escape. He was guarded by the snake, and no doubt there were more guards on the outside of the only door in the room. He eyed Nagini, who was still asleep, taking in her long fangs, wondering exactly how poisonous she was.

He didn't have a wand either. The only way he could even have a fighting chance would be to acquire a wand, and how would he do that?

Draco sighed again in the silence of the room. It looked even more dismal the more he thought about it. There were so many obstacles. Even if he did manage to get a wand, subdue the snake, and get out of the chair, how would he get out of the room?

Clearly, there was only one entrance; the door across the room through which everyone came. Draco laid his head back and shut his eyes, trying to concentrate on figuring a way out. He breathed in deeply, and then opened his eyes suddenly.

The air he was breathing was not stale but fresh. It was not air that had been trapped inside a room for several days. It felt cool and breezy as he sat in the chair. He looked around, as if trying to figure out where it was coming from. After all, it could be just magic.

He was stymied for a moment as he glanced around the darkness. There was no way to see anything. He was about to give up and chock it up to magic when he remembered something.

_This place could do with a window._

Blaise's words from his previous visit echoed in his ears. He snapped his head around to the direction Blaise had nodded. He wondered if there wasn't a window there, concealed by magical means. He breathed in deeply, smelling the scent of grass and trees. There had to be a window.

Draco felt his heart leap in his chest as the thought completed in his head. There was a window! A way to escape! But then it sunk once more. He still had no way of finding the window or even getting out of his bonds.

He hung his head once more, the sinking feeling washing through his body. He desperately needed to get out of there. He was worried; worried for himself, for Harry. He could only imagine what Harry was doing. He wanted to know that Harry was safe at least.

Draco's head snapped up as he heard the door creak open for the second time that day. The light fell across the opening once more and a torch flared into light as soon as the man walked into the room.

Draco looked at the man closely. He recognized him. His name was Antonin Dolohov. He had met him once, two years ago during the Christmas break; his father had brought him to their home.

Dolohov had dark circles under his eyes but they were shining with malice as he moved closer to Draco, his wand held tightly in his hand. He had a heavy-set body, Draco noticed, as he came closer. He was leering at Draco, his yellow teeth gleaming in the light from the singular torch.

"Zabini says you aren't talking," the man leered, coming within a foot of Draco. Draco quickly retracted his feet underneath himself.

"Well, he's right," Draco sneered back. "I have nothing to say. The Dark Lord already knows."

Dolohov sneered at Draco; his hand tightened around the handle of his wand as he glared down at him. "You should watch your tongue, little one. You may be an adult in the wizarding world, but you are still a child in your ways of thinking."

Draco said nothing, glaring at the man in front of him. He noticed how close he was standing, invading his personal space, nearly suffocating him with his reeking smell. Dolohov's hand tensed around his wand as Draco sat up straighter again. He was not going to be intimidated by a man who never seemed to shower.

"The Dark Lord knows what I am. He would not have given me my task if he hadn't."

"But you failed," Dolohov breathed, his eyes alight with malice. "The Dark Lord does not prize you any more than anyone else. You have lost your place."

"I will regain it," said Draco in a confident and dangerous voice. "He knows what he can expect from me."

"He doesn't trust you," Dolohov sneered. "You can't regain your place after what you've done."

Draco's eyes narrowed as he glared at the Death Eater. "You want know what I've been hiding?" he asked him. "Come here."

Dolohov appeared to be hesitating, but the opportunity to find out what Draco had been hiding was too tempting. He would be able to tell his master and be rewarded greatly. He leaned in closer, shuffling his feet forward.

Draco sneered up at him, and in the second Dolohov neared him, he shot out his legs, clamping them down around Dolohov's and twisting. The heavy man fell to the floor as his feet were torn out from under him. Draco used his feet to angle one under Dolohov's legs and the other on top of his ankle.

He slammed down hard, hearing a satisfying crack as Dolohov's ankle broke. Dolohov let out a scream of agony and dropped his wand. Draco watched as it clattered a little ways away. He knew he had to get it if he had any chance of his plan succeeding.

He concentrated for a moment, the wails of Dolohov in his ears. He only hoped someone would not hear and come running. He closed his eyes, focusing all his energy on the chains that bound his arms. He gave an almighty tug and was quite surprised when the chains gave way easily.

He was taken aback for a moment, and then he remembered the warmth that had glowed for a moment before Blaise had left. Silently praising his friend, Draco leapt from the chair, snatching up the wand. Dolohov attempted to grab Draco as he sailed over him but couldn't quite reach.

"Come back here you--!" Dolohov shrieked as Draco scooped up the wand. He hastily put a Silencing Charm around the room, praying no one had heard anything.

The intensity of the sound seemed to have finally awoken Nagini from her sleep. She shook her head slowly and raised it up, catching sight of Draco. Her eyes widened and she let out a loud hiss.

"Oh, fuck," Draco said before jumping out of the way, just barely missing being punctured by Nagini's dripping fangs.

He sent spell after spell at the snake, none being successful. He assumed that Voldemort had put protection spells around her.

" _Stupefy!_ " he yelled, sending a jet of red light at the snake. It merely bounced off and Nagini slithered forward, hissing madly and angrily as Draco darted away from her advancing fangs.

_What do I do? What do I do?!_ he thought hysterically. _I have to get out of here! I can't do that with this stupid snake alive! Why didn't I think of this sooner?_

He backed away into a wall behind him and bounced off it. He looked at it, confused. He had no time to wonder about it, though, as the snake came forward, her fangs bared angrily.

" _Sectumsempra!_ " he shouted. The spell just barely sliced the snake's scales. Draco could see a small cut in the snake's skin. 

Nagini hissed in pain as the spell hit her. Her only response was to become more aggressive in her attack.

She lunged for Draco, and he just barely got out of the way, flinging himself to the side, praying to Merlin he would make it out alive. He jumped to his feet and fled from the snake as she slithered toward him at breakneck speed.

He took aim, the wand pointing at the tiny streak he had made in Nagini's skin. " _Electricito!_ " he yelled. A bolt of blue light zigzagged out of his wand and directly into the cut on Nagini's body.

The snake began to curl and writhe on the floor as the electric shock ran through her body, singeing her insides. Draco was sure that if she could speak, her screams would be deafening.

He watched as her body began to convulse, shaking uncontrollably. In the background, Draco heard Dolohov shrieking something, probably hoping someone might hear through the door. Draco paid him no mind, his attention on the jerking snake.

Suddenly, the shaking stopped and the snake laid still, wisps of smoke drifting out of her mouth. Draco stared at the snake, moving forward cautiously. He tapped her limp body with his foot and saw that she was dead.

He breathed a sigh of relief. He turned back to Dolohov, who was dragging his body toward the door. Draco wielded the wand over his head and brought it down with incredible force.

" _Stupefy!_ " The red light flashed through the room, hitting the crawling man in the chest and he keeled over motionless.

Draco took a moment to steady himself and calm down his heart which had been beating painfully against his ribcage. Now, he had to get out of there.

He moved carefully over to the wall and began feeling along it, searching for some kind of evidence of magical concealment. He moved past where the snake lay and to the spot where he had bounced off the wall.

He pressed his hand against the spot carefully, feeling the remnants of magic settled there. He raised his stolen wand and prodded at the wall. It sprung back at him. He took his wand, waving it over the spot repeatedly, whispering spells under his breath.

Finally, he felt the magic recede and a tiny speck of light shone through. He did a little more magic until the whole window was visible. The bottom ledge of the window was even with his shoulders as he stared at it. He knew he had to leave soon. Someone would realize that Dolohov had not returned soon and they would come looking for him.

Draco conjured a step stool and climbed up on it, pushing the window open. It remained stubbornly closed and it took even more magic to release it. Finally, he managed to push it open just enough to slip his slim body through.

He pushed himself out the window, climbing through the small opening and outside.

 

~~**~~

__  
A/N: I'm trying to get this out before July, hopefully it will happen >.  



	12. One Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry has four goals: Find the Horcruxes, kill Voldemort, avenge Dumbledore, and, most importantly, find and save Draco.

  
Author's notes: Harry has four goals: Find the Horcruxes, kill Voldemort, avenge Dumbledore, and, most importantly, find and save Draco.

~Sequel to Falling Away with You~  


* * *

*

Harry stared at Hermione for a second, his mouth hanging open. Ron was speechless as well, staring at the locket that sat so innocently on the table in front of them. 

"You-- you what?" Harry finally asked.

"I think I figured out a way," Hermione breathed.

They all turned to stare at the golden locket for a few more minutes. A feeling of undeniable hope flared up inside Harry. They had found a Horcrux and Hermione may have figured out how to destroy it. If they destroyed this Horcrux, there would only be four more left, including the bit of Voldemort's soul inside himself.

"Well?" he asked anxiously. "How?"

"Okay, well, I was thinking how it has to be done like you would kill a real person. I think V-Voldemort--oh, shut up, Ron-- wouldn't have thought about people wanting to destroy them. The diary was destroyed by poison. Poison can kill anyone. I think our best bet is to treat the locket like it's a mortal person."

"And?" Harry asked eagerly. He was very interested to know what she had come up with.

"Every mortal person has a weakness, right?"

"Yeah."

"What is the locket's weakness?" she asked them. Harry and Ron glanced at each other. They had no idea. How can a locket have a weakness?

"... I don't know..." Harry said slowly. He hated when Hermione thought they were smarter than they actually were. Sometimes, they just weren't.

Hermione sighed. "Don't you see? The locket is made out of metal, probably gold. Gold is one of the softest metals, easily pliable, but that's not it. Just the fact that this is a locket says everything you need to know."

Harry and Ron looked at her blankly. They had no idea what she was getting at.

"Why don't you just tell us, Hermione," Ron said finally.

Hermione just ignored him. "What do you do with lockets?" 

"Put pictures in them?" Harry said, unsure.

"Exactly," Hermione said, her eyes glittering as he finally caught on a bit. "And how do you put the pictures in?"

"Well, you open it, but that's the whole point!" Harry exclaimed.

"And when you shut it?"

"It latches closed, what?"

"Harry," Hermione sighed. "Look at the locket. What do you see?"

Harry reached for the locket and picked it up. It felt heavy in his hand as he looked at it closely. The ornate S curled around the back of the locket. The front of the locket was a plain, glittering gold. In between the two sides was a tiny crack where it should have been able to opened.

"The crack?" he asked carefully, looking closely at it. It was a tiny crack, barely visible but Harry knew if it was a normal locket, it would have been able to be pried open.

"Yes," Hermione said, happy that he finally understood. "That is its weakness. It can be penetrated at that one, tiny point."

"But what are you going to put in there? It's not like you could stab it or something," Harry said sarcastically.

"Of course not," Hermione said, waving away his suggestion. "There's only one way to compromise this locket."

"And that would be?" Ron asked, tired of her riddling. He just wanted to know how to destroy it.

"Well, I was thinking about what we could put in the locket that might kill a human. I also thought about the leading cause of death in Muggles. The number one worldwide is infections which got me thinking about diseases and parasites. Have you ever heard of the Ebola virus?"

Ron shook his head no, but Harry paused. He vaguely recalled something on the news years ago about some new virus or bug.

"What does it do?" he asked.

"It's basically a virus that, once it gets inside your body, turns your intestines to mush and you die," she explained.

"Eww," Ron said, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

"But, Hermione," Harry said carefully. "Isn't that not very safe? What if it gets out?"

"I've thought about that, too, Harry," she told him. "And I think I figured out a way to do it."

She waved her wand and a sealed, clear, glass jar appeared in the middle of the table. It looked like there was nothing inside it to Harry. He looked closer, wondering if there was anything inside. Ron was looking extremely confused.

"Is there anything in there?" Harry asked.

"Yes, the Ebola virus," Hermione said simply, and Harry jerked back.

"Hermione! That disease is unsafe! It could kill us all!"

Ron understood that at least and pushed his chair as far away from the table as it would go. Hermione remained where she was, rolling her eyes at the two of them.

"Harry, it's perfectly safe. It's sealed with a Permanent Sticking Charm, and the glass has an Unbreakable Charm on it as well."

Harry didn't look convinced as Hermione reached over for the locket. Ron inched back towards the table, interested, despite the presence of the disease, to see what Hermione was going to do.

She waved her wand in a little circle over the locket and it vanished in a small pop, and then reappeared seconds later inside the empty jar. They all scooted their chairs forward to watch the locket that sat in the middle of the jar.

Nothing happened for a few moments and then they heard a small sizzling sound coming from inside the jar. The locket had begun to rattle, throwing itself around as the unseen virus crept into the tiny crack.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione watched in awe as the locket shuddered violently as the virus ate its insides. The locket quivered the longer it remained in the sealed jar. Harry was extremely glad he was not in the jar.

The locket finally slowed in its movement and, without warning, it burst apart and the gold melted into a puddle at the bottom of the jar. From the puddle, a miniscule shadow of a skull floated upwards, then vanished into thin air.

"Do you think it worked?" Ron asked in a hushed voice.

"I think so," Harry breathed, moving his head closer to look at the puddle of gold sitting at the bottom of the jar. Hermione also moved forward, looking at the insides of the jar.

"I-I think it did," she said in an awed voice. "Wow..."

"That was so cool," Ron breathed.

Harry sighed. "You know this was the easy one, right?" Ron and Hermione looked at him, confused expressions on their faces. "We didn't have to get this one out of Voldemort's traps. Someone already did it for us, luckily. Next time, it won't be so easy. We'll have to go through all his traps he's set and find the Horcrux. It's not going to be fun."

"We know," Hermione said softly, reaching over and placing a hand on Harry's arm.

"I think I'm going to go lay down," Harry said. "You're gonna get rid of that, right?" He indicated the jar with the melted Horcrux inside.

Hermione immediately waved her wand and the jar vanished. Harry looked at her closely. "Where did it go?"

"Into a volcano far, far away," she said with a pacifying smile. He gave her a half-smile, then turned and left the kitchen. Ron and Hermione stared after him, then shared a glance, but neither said anything.

***

It was pitch black as Harry lay awake in his four poster bed. He should have been sleeping. The next day he had another of his eternal detentions with Snape. Harry dreaded going to them. Each time was a horrid reminder of what he had done to the boy he could now not stop thinking of.

He gave a small sigh as he stared up at the canopy of his bed. He didn't notice when a door creaked open somewhere beyond his curtains. He was concentrating on falling asleep, but it wasn't working very well.

He turned his head sharply as his curtains were drawn back.

"Who--?" he started to ask, but a hand covered his mouth almost immediately.

"Shh." A soothing voice came out of the darkness in front of him. He felt someone crawl on top of his lower body, straddling his hips. A few whispered spells were sent around the perimeter of the bed.

"Draco," Harry whispered, "you shouldn't be here; you're going to get caught."

"But, Harry," Draco whispered in a seductive voice, "I've missed you."

Harry couldn't deny the effect those words had on his body. He groaned softly as Draco kissed his neck lightly and rubbed his growing erection against Harry's hip. He couldn't see Draco through the darkness, only his outline that was before him.

Draco came to him like this sometimes, in the dead of night when everyone else was asleep. Harry tried to discourage it, worried for both of their safety. If anyone found out, there would be hell to pay.

Draco shifted against Harry, his now hard erection pressing into Harry's. He moved against Harry torturously, slowly rolling his hips into the raven-haired boy's stiffening member.

"Fuck, Draco," Harry breathed, then gasped slightly. His hands came up to the blond boy's sides to find that he was wearing no shirt. Harry's hands roamed over the smooth skin of Draco's torso, his calloused fingers running over Draco's back.

Draco gave a low hiss as Harry's hands moved swiftly over his shoulders and lower back. He leaned down and nipped at Harry's neck, flicking his hot tongue over the spot. He heard Harry give a quiet moan, but Draco wanted more.

He didn't spend much time on the tanned skin of Harry's neck. Instead, he pulled away, ignoring the noise of loss Harry gave. He crashed his lips down on Harry's, pulling him into a hard, passionate kiss. Harry's whimper was lost in Draco’s hot mouth. He pushed his tongue into Harry's mouth, taking the dominant position that night. 

Harry groaned as Draco's tongue swirled all around the hot caverns of his mouth, tasting all of him. Draco pulled Harry's lower lip into his mouth, sucking on the plump flesh. Teeth clashed and hot tongues melted together as the kiss grew in fervor.

Without warning, though, Draco pulled out of the kiss and flipped Harry over onto his front. Harry was already shirtless since he rarely wore a shirt to bed. Draco pressed kisses to the back of Harry's neck, scraping his teeth over his spine, sending shivers all down Harry's back.

Harry could feel Draco's throbbing erection rubbing against the cleft of his ass and it made him, if possible, even harder. His erection pressed down onto his mattress as Draco continued his exploration of Harry's back.

He bit down on Harry's shoulder blade, earning him a hiss of pain and a gasp of pleasure. Draco smoothed over the spot with his tongue, admiring the tiny red marks his teeth had made on the tan flesh. He kissed down Harry's spine, licking and nibbling, earning whimpers of pleasure from his boyfriend.

Harry gave a low moan as Draco came to his lower back, his hot tongue sliding over the smooth skin there. Draco sucked hard on the skin, making a red mark on the otherwise perfect skin of Harry's back.

He slid his hands under Harry's boxers, the only thing he wore to bed, and over the smooth skin of his ass. Harry groaned into the pillow as Draco squeezed them lightly then ran his hands back up. They grazed up Harry's sides and up to grasp Harry's hands. Draco's body slid up as well and he planted a kiss on Harry's neck.

He let go of one of Harry’s hand, and pushed down Harry's boxers, exposing his perfect ass. Draco had to bite his lip not to groan at the sight. He pushed his excruciatingly hard cock against Harry's ass, loving how Harry pushed his body back wantonly.

"Fuck, Draco, I need--I need--" Harry gasped, turning his head from the pillow.

"Need what?" Draco whispered, moving in and giving Harry a light kiss.

"I need you," Harry finished, his breath coming in short gasps. Beneath his body, his rock hard cock desperately needed attention.

Draco smirked down at him, a feeling of satisfaction traveling through his body at Harry's words. He pulled away for a moment to remove his own pants and throw them to the side of the bed. He moved back, rubbing his leaking erection against the crack of Harry's ass, his slick pre-cum sliding between their bodies.

Harry moaned softly, pushing his body back onto Draco's cock. His own erection was now excruciatingly painful. He desperately needed release, but couldn't get any in his current position.

Draco reached over for his wand and performed a basic lubrication and protection spell. He slid a finger into Harry's opening, stretching the hot hole. He added a second slick finger, pressing into Harry's body, plunging them in and out. Harry's moan was lost in the pillow as Draco removed the fingers, only to replace them with his aching member.

Harry gasped as he felt the intrusion of a much larger object, pushing through his tight muscles and into his body. Draco gritted his teeth as his cock was engulfed by Harry's tight, hot muscles, gripping it tightly as he slid further into Harry's body.

Draco's hands came to Harry's hips, his nails digging into the soft skin there. He slid his member out of its hot confinement only to slam back in, ripping a cry from Harry's throat as a wave of heat crashed over his body.

Harry’s breath caught in his throat as Draco thrust into his body at an alarming rate. He could feel his climax coming on quickly as Draco's thrusts deepened. 

"Oh, shit!" Harry exclaimed, rocking his body back against Draco's.

Draco changed the angle and pushed his cock harder into Harry's body. The tight cocoon of muscles slid over Draco's cock, squeezing around it excruciatingly. Draco pulled out and slammed back into Harry's willing body, dragging Harry's hips up to meet his own.

Harry's strangled moan was lost when Draco came suddenly, shooting his load deep inside Harry. He continued to thrust recklessly into Harry until he was all but spent.

The sound of Draco coming was too much for Harry and he lost it as well without ever being touched. His release was muffled by the pillow as his body convulsed in pleasure, white hot cum covering the bed underneath him.

He didn't care about the uncomfortable stickiness as he lay there, trying to regain his breath. He felt Draco slide his spent cock from his body and collapse on the bed next to him. They said nothing for awhile until Harry felt Draco shift, and he rolled over.

Draco ran a hand over Harry's chest comfortingly, sighing deeply. He nuzzled into Harry's neck. "Fuck, Harry, if it's always like this, I'll sneak in more often."

Harry couldn't help smiling as Draco pressed a kiss to his neck. He slid an arm around Draco's shoulders and pulled him closer, reveling in the feel of his warm body pressed against his. This was his favorite time, not the sex, but afterwards. Afterwards, it was like they were the only two people in the world. They were safe from everything. Time stopped.

He heard Draco sigh contentedly and Harry closed his eyes, falling into a blissful sleep.

Harry jerked awake. He lifted a hand and felt around on the bed beside him. He sat up, looking around him, realizing that he was still in Grimmauld Place. Beside him on the bed was just the book he'd been reading earlier. He stared down at it, a tugging sadness coming over him. He blinked back tears and turned over in the bed, hugging the covers tighter around himself, wishing that it was Draco keeping him warm instead.

 

~~**~~

A/N: Well, we're getting somewhere, finally :) I like the next few chapters... hopefully you will too. Please review :)


	13. At the Malfoy Manor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After Dumbledore's death and Draco's disappearance, Harry knows what he has to do. He must find and save his boyfriend while concealing the relationship, destroy the Horcruxes that will ultimately destroy Voldemort, and deal with his grief. With Ron and Hermione by his side, he may just have a chance. ~Sequel to Falling Away with You~

  
Author's notes: After Dumbledore's death and Draco's disappearance, Harry knows what he has to do. He must find and save his boyfriend while concealing the relationship, destroy the Horcruxes that will ultimately destroy Voldemort, and deal with his grief. With Ron and Hermione by his side, he may just have a chance. ~Sequel to Falling Away with You~

~Sequel to Falling Away with You~  


* * *

*

Draco looked around quickly, a growing feeling of panic overtaking his previous feeling of success. He was standing outside the window from which he had just escaped. The top of the building was no higher than a few feet off the ground, and as Draco watched it, it vanished.

He was now mercifully alone and vulnerable. A sloping hill covered in green grass stretched out before him, running over the crest of the hill and down to where a small river flowed. Draco knew he needed to go somewhere more sheltered before he was caught and punished, or worse, killed.

He quickly sneaked away from the open grass and over to where a small patch of trees grew. Draco supposed that this was the point set up for Apparition by the Death Eaters. He knew it wasn't safe there either, but it was at least a little less exposed. 

He crept behind a particularly large tree, pressing his back against it and attempting to blend into the bark. He took a pacifying breath and tried to think clearly. A warm breeze ruffled the leaves on the trees surrounding him.

He looked down at the stolen wand he held in his hand. It would do for now but he needed his own. He knew Voldemort had taken it from him, though. He also knew that there was an exact replica at Malfoy Manor in case he ever lost his own.

When he had thought of his escape, he hadn't planned much further than actually escaping. He didn't know where to go; nowhere was safe to him anymore. 

At the moment, he just knew he needed supplies. He needed a way to survive and there was only one way to do that.

He stood leaning against the tree, wishing he didn't have to do what he knew was necessary. He would have given anything not to. He closed his eyes for a second, preparing himself. His eyes snapped open as he heard a pop on the other side of the trees. He had to get out of there, fast.

He carefully moved to the other side of the tree, edging around the wide trunk, away from whoever had just Apparated in. He told himself to suck it up and, in a pop, he was gone.

He reappeared under the dark shade of a tree that towered over a large iron gate. A large M emblazoned the front of the gate. Draco looked up at the house that was set a little back from the gate.

It was a rather large, white Manor, five stories high and a Victorian air about it. A marble staircase led up to the front door of the house. The two French-style doors took up a great deal of the front of the house.

Above the doors were numerous windows, each showing into a different room of the magnificent house. They glared down at Draco, who remained momentarily under the dark tree. The sky overhead was cloudy and overcast, shining a dull grey down upon everything.

Draco looked up at his home and sighed. He knew it was the only way he would ever survive. He needed the things that were in that house. He also knew how incredibly risky it might be.

He steeled himself and walked cautiously toward the front gates. A stone gargoyle that stood crouched on top of a small open building seemed to be watching his every move. Draco placed his hand tentatively on the gate and pushed it open. The gargoyle's eyes glowed blue and allowed him to pass, walking up the driveway to the Manor.

Instead of heading for the front door, Draco sneaked cautiously around the side, hiding in bushes along the way. He came around to the back and glanced up at a window on the third floor.

He stood there for a moment, contemplating how he might get in. He had known it would have been useless and incredibly reckless to use the front door. He needed to get into his bedroom where he would be able to get anything he needed.

He glanced around, his nerves beginning to get the best of him. His eyes fell on a tall, winding vine that crawled up the side of the house. Normally, Draco would have made a note of it in order to yell at the gardener about later, but, at the moment, he was silently praising the incompetent man.

It seemed so _Muggle_ , but Draco was determined and it was his only option. He placed his foot on one of the vines and hoisted himself upward, his hands grabbing the slippery vines. He climbed steadily upward, slipping occasionally. He managed to climb all the way to the third floor without having a major heart attack, quite an accomplishment in his mind.

He grabbed the wand from his pocket and pointed it at the window to his room. With a silent spell, he unlocked it and pushed it open. He slid inside, taking extra care to be quiet. He knew that casting any kind of spell would set off the detectors his parents had set long ago. They always wanted to know what kind of magic he was doing.

He tip-toed over the plush, white carpet, past the settee and table, right by the large, comfortable bed, and over to a large, maple door. He opened it carefully, praising the fact that it remained quiet. He slipped inside, wishing he could light his wand to see better.

He didn't dare, though, and just did his best. He took a moment to look around. Hundreds of clothes hung everywhere; shirts, pants, shoes, everything. He moved further within the closet that was really more like a small room.

At the very back was a small shelf that held several treasures of Draco's. On the end was a long, thin box. He took it down carefully, removing the lid and plucking out his own wand. He looked around furtively, as though he was afraid he was being watched.

He placed his real wand back in his own pocket, and, as an afterthought, put the stolen Death Eater's wand back in the box, shutting it quickly and shoving it back on the shelf. He glanced over the shelf, looking to see if there was anything else useful that he might be able to sneak away with him.

His eyes came to rest on a small black box. It held another packet of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder which he had ordered from the Weasley twins' shop last fall. He had only had one packet with him at school this past June. It had been one of his excuses as to why his "mission" had not gone as well.

He shoved it in his pocket before realizing he probably needed a bag. He turned quickly and rummaged through the room, searching for one of his old school bags. He noticed his school trunk sitting in a dark corner. Obviously, it had been sent home after his disappearance... after that night.

He wrenched his gaze away from it, resuming his search for a bag. He came back with a small shoulder bag. He shoved the Darkness Powder inside it and turned back to the shelf. He didn't see anything else that might be helpful, only small, personal treasures that seemed so useless now.

He threw off his clothes hastily, finally being able to change them after three days in a confinement cell. He reached for a wizard robe then stopped. If he was going to run and hide and probably fight, it would be better to be in more flexible clothes, less likely of becoming entangled in them. He moved his outstretched hand to another row of hanging clothes.

He grabbed a pair of Muggle jeans, one of the few he had managed to convince his mother to buy. He slipped on a tee shirt as well. Then he grabbed a few random pairs of pants and shirts, shoving them unceremoniously in his bag. He would shrink them later.

He turned to come face-to-face with his school trunk. He hesitated then reluctantly pushed it open. It looked just the same it had that night he had prepared for the "fulfillment" of his mission.

FLASHBACK:  
 _  
Draco stared down at his trunk, trying to calm the pounding of his heart. His books were neatly stacked inside, sorted alphabetically. His school robes were folded and pressed next to the books. His socks had been folded and stuffed into the corners of the trunk._

_He took a long breath and reached over, closing the lid. He stepped back, staring at the trunk, the fear evident in his eyes._

_He nearly jumped out of his skin as two hands slid around his waist. He whirled around, his eyes wide. He couldn't stop the painful beating of his heart as it slammed against his throat._

_"Oh, god, Harry, you_ really _shouldn't do that."_

_Harry said nothing for a moment and it was then that Draco noticed something was wrong._

_"Harry, what's wrong?"_

_"We found one," Harry whispered. "Draco, are you sure?"_

_He didn't even have to ask what Harry was talking about. He turned away his head in shame, knowing he should give up._

_"I can't stop," he said, the desperation present in his voice._

_"But, please, Draco. Dumbledore, he knows. He can help." Harry's voice was pleading as he stared at Draco. The look pulled on Draco's resolve but he knew the consequences would be too great to back out now._

_"Harry, I want to, but I can't. He'll kill me, Harry."_

_Harry's expression was heart wrenching and Draco wanted very much to tell Harry he would run away with him, but he knew the Gryffindor wouldn't do that either. It was just as much his problem as Harry's._

_"But, Draco," Harry whispered, his voice breaking as tears began to form. "What if you have to—“_

_"I won't," Draco said swiftly, staring desperately into Harry's beautiful green eyes. "I promised."_

_Harry nodded, silent tears beginning to fall down his face as he stood in Draco's room. The sight of it made Draco want to burst into tears, but he knew he couldn't. Instead, he moved forward, standing awkwardly in front of Harry. He still didn't know what to do. He had never been conditioned on how to act in cases like these._

_Harry sniffed, bringing up a hand to wipe away his tears. He closed the distance between them quickly, moving into Draco's arms. Draco's grip tightened around Harry as they stood like that for just a second. He ran a hand into Harry's dark hair, massaging the dark locks._

_Harry's tears stained Draco's robes as he struggled to control his body. Finally, he knew he had to stop. Dumbledore was waiting for him. He moved back from Draco, his eyes shining with unshed tears. Draco watched him sadly, wishing he knew what to do._

_Harry just sniffed again and moved in to kiss Draco softly. No moves were made to deepen the kiss. It was light but held a promise of things to come. Finally, Harry pulled away, staring at Draco._

_"I love you," he whispered._

_Draco lowered his head for a second then looked back at Harry. "I love you too," he replied quietly. Harry nodded quickly and slowly left the room, leaving Draco to turn back and stare at his now closed trunk, wishing that he could change what he'd done, but it was far too late now.  
_  
END FLASHBACK: 

Draco stared down at his trunk, seeing the neatly folded clothes and books. It was almost a comfort to know that his things had not been touched in his absence. He reached into it, shoving aside the clothes until he came to the bottom of the trunk.

He pulled out a folded package and unwrapped it carefully. The paper fell away to reveal a silvery cloth that fell past the floor, pooling at his feet. It was one of his seventeenth birthday presents. He hadn't used it for the mission because he hadn't wanted any more advantage than was necessary to pull off a convincing act. No one knew of the Invisibility Cloak except himself, Harry, and his mother and father.

Lucius had managed another spectacular release from prison only days before another break-in was staged and all held Death Eater's had escaped. Draco knew his father was out there somewhere, probably on every alert for Draco's presence. Surely, he would know of his imprisonment.

Draco threw the cloak in his bag and dug once more in his trunk. He grabbed his book of advanced spells, shoving it deeper into the already full bag. He took one last look in the trunk then shut the lid quietly.

He cast one last glance around the closet before surmising there was nothing more he needed. He grabbed the heavy bag and slung it over his shoulder. He crept cautiously from the closet, making sure to close the door and leave everything as it had been. 

He had just heard the final click of the door when a voice shot his heart into his throat.

"Hello, Draco."

He whipped around, fear gripping his chest. He forgot to breathe for several seconds as he stared at the person in the settee sitting opposite him.

"Mother," he said quietly, fearing being heard by other, less wanted, ears. 

Narcissa looked at her son, her eyes a hard, cold blue. She rose from the couch and moved gracefully towards Draco, who moved away, weary of the woman.

"Draco, you shouldn't have come here," she said, her tone of voice completely different from the facade she presented. It was worried and scared. "Your father is somewhere close by. He is very angry."

"Mother, I-I didn't--" Draco didn't know exactly what to say. He didn't what? He didn't kill Dumbledore because he'd fallen in love with the Dark Lord's greatest enemy?

Narcissa let her cold mask fall for half a second as she looked at her son. Her eyes were full of desperate pleading. "Please, Draco," she said, completely surprising him. He'd never heard her plead before. "Don't succumb like your father has."

"I--" Draco was at a loss as to what to say. Instead, he merely stared at the woman he had respected for so long. He had thought his parents had always been all about the Dark Lord, answering his calls, serving him up like a pig on a platter to his cause.

Just then, another voice came seeping through the walls. It crept down Draco's spine, sending shivers all over his body, turning his body to ice.

"Narcissa? Who’s in there?"

Narcissa's eyes widened in fear as she turned to stare at the bedroom door. Draco was rooted to the spot as an unknowable fear seeped into his veins. Narcissa turned back to him, desperation gripping her.

"Go, Draco, go!" she whispered in a panicked voice.

He wasted no time grabbing his bag and flying to the window. The knocking on the door became more persistent as Lucius' impatience grew.

"Go!" Narcissa exclaimed.

Draco saw the fear in her eyes and knew there was no other way. With one foot out the window, he turned to his mother. He removed his wand from his pocket and she stared at him.

"I'm sorry, Mother," he said quietly, raising the wand. " _Obliviate_."

A suddenly blank look came over Narcissa's face. Draco sighed and shook his head, feeling ashamed. The pounding on the door increased, jerking Draco to his senses. He hastily threw his other leg out the window, climbing down the vines, hearing above him the crash of the door as it was thrown open.

He hurried down the vines then took off for the edge of the property that was obscured by tall trees. Just before he disappeared into them, he turned back to the house. In a window on the third floor, he could see two figures standing together; one of them gesticulating angrily at the other, who stood placidly by.

Draco turned away, a feeling of shame washing over him. He hoisted the bag higher and plunged into the trees, making for the other side and the rest of his life.

 

~~**~~  
 __  
A/N: Because I really want to finish this by July, I'm breaking my normal cycle of which ones I update when... :) So if you like it, you know what to do. And don't be afraid to leave reviews, really, I don't bite... unless you want me too ;) hehe


	14. The Gift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After Dumbledore's death and Draco's disappearance, Harry knows what he has to do. He must find and save his boyfriend while concealing the relationship, destroy the Horcruxes that will ultimately destroy Voldemort, and deal with his grief. With Ron and Hermione by his side, he may just have a chance. ~Sequel to Falling Away with You~

  
Author's notes: After Dumbledore's death and Draco's disappearance, Harry knows what he has to do. He must find and save his boyfriend while concealing the relationship, destroy the Horcruxes that will ultimately destroy Voldemort, and deal with his grief. With Ron and Hermione by his side, he may just have a chance. ~Sequel to Falling Away with You~  


* * *

*

"Do you think something's wrong?"

"Well, of course, something is wrong! Can't you tell?"

Ron gave Hermione a dirty look, but she merely gave him a superior one in return across the long table in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. It had been a while since Harry had quitted them, leaving them alone in the silence of the cavernous kitchen.

At the moment, they were both sitting with their elbows resting casually on top of it, their heads sitting on top of their hands. Each had been staring rather morosely at the table, contemplating their friend's actions as of late.

"Yes, I can tell," Ron replied scathingly, glaring at her. "I just wanted to know if you had noticed."

"Well, I did," Hermione said huffily. "It's incredibly obvious from how he's been acting. I mean, we just destroyed a Horcrux, and all he wants to do is lie down? Doesn't really seem like him, does it?"

"I know! And he keeps going off to be alone. How much 'alone time' could he possibly need?!"

"Well, he is suffering from a lot, you know," Hermione pointed out. "What with Dumbledore dying, Snape being the one who did it, and that we have already been attacked after only a few days."

"Yeah, and what's with that bracelet he's started wearing? I swear to Merlin it hisses at me every time I come near." Ron scowled in distaste at the thought.

"I don't know what that is," Hermione said slowly. "He didn't used to have it, did he? And, now, he never takes it off."

"I don't know, but I don't think it likes me."

"Oh, Ron," she sighed and he scowled at her.

"I'm serious! It hisses at Harry too, I think, but it seems nicer to him."

Hermione just shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Are you sure you're not imagining things?"

"Yes! It hisses at me! Haven't you heard it?!"

"No."

"Yeah, well, it does," Ron said stubbornly, taking his arms off the table and crossing them over his chest grumpily. Hermione merely sighed once more and they fell back into silence.

Hermione glanced up at the ceiling where she knew Harry was, only one story up. She knew something was wrong. He had never been this closed off before, not even when Cedric or Sirius had died. There had to be more to it. She wished he felt enough confidence in her to tell her. But she knew she could not push him or it might make it even worse.

She and Ron refrained from asking about the Pensieve whenever possible because they knew Harry liked to keep it private. Ron hadn't really understood, but Hermione did. She knew he felt like it was his only connection left with the man who had been his mentor for so long. He wanted to keep it alive for himself and not share with anyone.

She sighed again, wishing there was more she could do to help her friend. She only wanted him to be happy, but she knew it might be a very long time before that happened.

Upstairs, Harry sat awake in his bed, wishing he could go to sleep but knowing it was useless. Outside, it was pitch black. Night had fallen rather fast for it being a summer day. Harry supposed it had something to do with Dementors that were supposedly roaming the streets quite freely now.

He heard footsteps pass on the landing outside, pausing at the door for a few seconds. He was quiet and, in a minute, the footsteps continued on. He and Ron were not sharing a room as they once had. Since they basically had the house to themselves for the time being, they had chosen to sleep in separate rooms, something which Harry was marginally glad for. He didn't want the awkward questions that often came when he awoke in the middle of the night, panic-stricken and sweat-drenched.

He was staring at the end of the bed but not really seeing it. His mind was too busy with thoughts of Horcruxes and Draco. He had destroyed one Horcrux, which meant only the cup, the snake, something of Gryffindor's or Ravenclaw's, and the piece inside Voldemort remained. That meant he was almost halfway to killing Voldemort.

He wanted to do more. He felt like he was wasting his time by staying shut up in Grimmauld Place while God knows what was going on in the world. It wasn't like he had a way to find out news. He had to be secret about all his doings to everyone but Ron and Hermione, and even they did not know it all.

He sighed, glancing around the nearly empty room. On the far side of his room, he could see the outline of Phineas asleep in his portrait. He wondered vaguely if McGonagall had sent him but found he really didn't care.

He looked down sharply as the snake on his wrist gave a small hiss. "Oh, shut up," he told it tiredly. Its only response was to hiss more menacingly. Harry was glad that its fangs were not poisonous, only pointy, since it had gotten into the habit of biting him whenever he self-consciously covered it up. The snake seemed to know what Harry was doing when he did this and took pleasure in reprimanding him for his faults.

The tiny green scales of the snake glinted in the light from a small table lamp. It slithered around its continuous circle, stopping occasionally to stare up at Harry, its glittering eyes watching him steadily.

Harry shook his head, lowering his arm, thinking how much he would have given to have Draco with him at that moment. Ron and Hermione were all well and good but there was just something else he needed. 

He tried in vain to fall back asleep but found it was completely useless. Instead, he went back to his most recent pastime of taking the Pensieve out and sifting through the memories, hoping to come upon anything that might help at all.

He heaved the basin up to his bed and stared down into its silvery depths. He took his wand from the bedside table and prodded the top as he always did, hoping against hope that, this time, something relevant might surface.

The foggy memories swirled for a moment until they cleared and Harry found himself looking into a black basin. He couldn't see anything, as it was so dark. For a second, he thought that the Pensieve hadn't worked, but then he caught a tiny glimmer inside the basin.

His curiosity intrigued, Harry bent over the Pensieve, first looking around surreptitiously. When he was sure he was alone, he took a deep breath and plunged into the memory. 

He fell for a moment until his feet hit the ground. He blinked, sure his eyes were playing tricks. He could see absolutely nothing through the pitch blackness that surrounded him. He wondered how this could possibly be a memory. Maybe it was like Slughorn's memory that had been tampered with.

He could feel a light breeze whipping up around him and knew he must be outside, but where? He looked up, noting that there were no stars and no moon that night. He waited impatiently, wondering what the hell kind of memory this was.

He was just wondering how he could possibly return when he heard a sudden sound behind him. He jerked around, completely forgetting that he was inside a memory and couldn't be seen or heard. The snake on his bracelet hissed lightly, and Harry squinted through the darkness.

There was another movement to his left and he turned sharply. A crackling light flickered into existence and was placed in a clear jar. His eyes widened as he looked at the person. He moved forward, hardly daring to believe his eyes.

Draco stood before him, staring down at the flickering fire. He stood with his hands on his hips, concentrating on the fire as though waiting for someone. His head snapped up as another sound was heard from somewhere behind Harry.

Harry turned around, still unable to see through the darkness. He wished he knew what memory this was, if it was his or someone else's. He was relieved to see himself emerge from the darkness behind him, walking to where Draco stood.

Draco looked up and smirked at Harry; his eyes held a glittering triumph as Harry approached. The real Harry moved forward cautiously, wishing that Draco was real and he could touch him.

"What was so important that I had to sneak out of my dorm in the middle of the night?" Harry asked, coming upon Draco. "It's bad enough you practically accost me in the halls where anyone could catch us, but now I think Ginny might be getting suspicious."

The real Harry stood, confused, trying to figure out what memory this was. He couldn't for the life of him remember. There had been many a time that he'd sneaked out of his dorm to meet Draco. It wasn't like it was a strange occurrence.

Draco's smirk left his face and he suddenly looked serious as he stepped closer to Harry. "I wanted to give you something."

"Give me something?" Pensieve Harry asked. "What is it?"

"Just consider it an early birthday present," Draco said, a small smile coming onto his face.

The real Harry's mouth fell open as he finally recalled the memory. He moved forward quickly, wanting to see more closely.

Draco reached into his robe pocket and withdrew a small box wrapped in green paper and tied with a silver bow. Harry looked down at it and couldn't help smiling. "How fitting," he commented.

"You have no idea," Draco replied. "Just open it."

Harry cast him a glance but removed the paper and pried open the top of the box. Inside were several layers of tissue paper. Once he had thrown them all aside, he saw a silver bracelet adorned with a tiny green snake circling the band.

Harry's eyebrows furrowed as he looked up at Draco. Draco didn't say anything for a moment as Harry looked back to the bracelet, lifting it up and examining it carefully.

"Draco... what is it?" he asked finally.

"It's for you. It has protective spells put on it; it'll keep you safer than most other things," Draco said quietly, watching Harry carefully and gauging his reaction.

"You got it for me?" Harry asked, stunned. No one had ever gotten him something so personal and nice.

"No, I got it for me. Of course, I got it for you." Draco stepped forward, sliding his hand over Harry's arm soothingly. Harry was still staring at the bracelet. The snake twisted its head and hissed in the direction of the real Harry.

Harry could have sworn the snake had looked directly at him. The other bracelet, the one on his wrist, hissed back to its counterpart that sat in Pensieve Harry's hand as he turned it over nervously.

"You really shouldn't have," Harry said quietly and Draco shook his head.

"Harry, I wanted to. You deserve to be safe."

"So do you!" Harry exclaimed. "Draco, the Order, they can protect you! If you just don't do i--"

"Harry, stop," Draco said, suddenly sounding angry. "I can't not do it. It will be worse for everyone. He would kill me instead of torturing me. And I don't want to leave you."

Harry stared at Draco. He had stopped twirling the bracelet between his fingers and it now fell limply in them. He didn't know what to say so he didn't say anything.

Draco sighed and dropped his hands to his side. "This bracelet, Harry, it's bound to me. It knows me. I'm always with you. I love you."

Harry searched Draco's face then his gaze fell to the cold silver bracelet in his hand. He knew Draco meant it no matter what he said or did otherwise. This bracelet was a symbol of his commitment, even if he couldn't show Harry truly.

"Draco, I--" he started but stopped suddenly as a sound reached his ears. He stilled, listening closely. 

The real Harry strained to hear whatever was making his counterpart uneasy. Then he heard it, the rustle of a bush and the crack of a twig. Pensieve Harry turned back to Draco hastily.

"Go, Draco!" he hissed, waving him away. Draco gave him one last sad look before scooping up the fire and disappearing into the darkness. A moment later, a wand tip lighted and Ginny came pushing her way through the brush.

"Harry," she said, sounding surprised. Her eyes were fixed on his face and, therefore, didn't see as he quickly shoved a small box into his pocket. "What are you doing out here?"

"Sorry, Gin," he apologized with a half smile. "I just wanted to go for a walk."

"Oh," she said, as though she hadn't expected that answer. "Well, do you want to go back to the castle?"

"Sure," he replied, moving forward and slipping his arm around her waist. Together, they walked out of Harry's sight and back to where the castle must be. He didn't follow them, having no desire to know what else had happened that night.

Instead, he concentrated hard on the desire to leave the memory and, in a moment, felt himself lifting through the air, tumbling through nothingness until he landed back on his bed.

He stared at the Pensieve and then to the bracelet on his wrist. The snake appeared to have fallen asleep. It was not moving anymore at any rate. Harry thought about that memory he had seen. He had almost forgotten about that night. It seemed so long ago, but it was with a jolt that Harry realized that Dumbledore had died only days later.

Draco's words from the Pensieve floated back to Harry. "It's bound to me. It knows me." What did that mean? He knew it meant that the bracelet was a symbol of Draco watching over him, but could it mean something more?

Harry pondered that thought as he shrunk the Pensieve and slipped it back into his bag. In the end, though, he decided that he was far too tired to ponder the riddle of a bracelet. He lay down in his bed, snuggling deeper into his covers, violently wishing that Draco was there with him once more. 

 

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 _  
A/N: Please review!_


	15. Concealing the Snake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After Dumbledore's death and Draco's disappearance, Harry knows what he has to do. He must find and save his boyfriend while concealing the relationship, destroy the Horcruxes that will ultimately destroy Voldemort, and deal with his grief. With Ron and Hermione by his side, he may just have a chance. ~Sequel to Falling Away with You~

  
Author's notes: After Dumbledore's death and Draco's disappearance, Harry knows what he has to do. He must find and save his boyfriend while concealing the relationship, destroy the Horcruxes that will ultimately destroy Voldemort, and deal with his grief. With Ron and Hermione by his side, he may just have a chance. ~Sequel to Falling Away with You~  


* * *

*

 

There was silence in the rather small room as the Death Eaters stood nervously. The mark had burned on their arms less than a few minutes previously. Now, they were all looking around the small room uneasily. 

One window allowed the sunlight to shine in, falling across the floor in a long, oblong shape. The cloaked Death Eaters shifted nervously, some peering around the others as if looking for the reason they had been summoned.

There was a collective jump as Voldemort appeared in a swirl of black smoke. His features were angry; his scarlet eyes narrowed in fury as he regarded his group of devoted followers. He walked closer to where the group was bunched.

The Death Eaters restrained themselves from flinching. A few stood proudly, not daring to appear frightened by their livid master.

Voldemort advanced upon them, glaring down at them all. He had his wand clenched in his hand as he walked up and down the row of shivering Death Eaters. Their eyes followed him religiously as he swept up and down the line.

Finally, he turned and took in the whole group. "Do you know why you are here?" he hissed in his cold and dangerous voice.

The Death Eaters hesitated, clearly unsure of what they should do; answer or remain silent. Fortunately for them, Voldemort continued. "In that room behind you was once housed a prisoner. Do you know who that was?"

Again, the Death Eaters said nothing, hoping he would go on, which he did. "That prisoner has now escaped due to lack of vigilance by my faithful servants." When he said "faithful servants", his eyes flashed and his grip tightened on his wand.

The Death Eater at the far end let out a small whimper, barely audible, even in the silence of the room. Voldemort's eyes snapped to him. He strode over to him now, glaring down through his slitted eyes.

"Anything to add, Dolohov?" he asked, his voice high and cold as always, though more deceptive than usual. The other Death Eaters watched, some apprehensive, others with unmistakable glee.

"M-my lord, he overpowered me. I had no chance to--"

"Overpowered by a seventeen year old boy with no wand and no particular strength?" Voldemort interrupted the man, who trembled.

"My lord, are you saying that my son has escaped?" Lucius' swift, silky voice came from under the hood of a man a few feet down. Voldemort turned to Lucius and gave him a hard look.

"He has, no thanks to his guards." Voldemort’s expression was once more an expression of repressed fury as he turned down the line. Two people went rigidly still as he approached them. "Crabbe, Goyle, you have once more failed in my trust to guard a possession of mine."

"My lord," a deep grunt came from one of the hoods. "We were guarding. Zabini came out and Dolohov wished to go in. We let him and heard yelling but it stopped. We figured the boy had--"

"Silence!" Voldemort ordered them. "Did it not occur to you to check anyway? You are dismally inadequate."

Crabbe and Goyle said nothing and Voldemort seemed to have finished with them for the time-being. Instead, he moved down the line to where a tall figure stood, holding his head proudly.

"Zabini," Voldemort addressed him, his voice suspicious.

"Yes, my lord?" Blaise answered swiftly and unafraid.

"You saw the prisoner before he escaped. Did he show any tendencies then?"

"No, my lord. He was weak," Blaise replied disdainfully. "He had no power to attempt an escape. He was quite secured. I'm sure he could not have escaped when I saw him. His bonds were locked tightly and he had no access to a wand. I don't believe he could have gone without the pure ineptitude of someone else."

Voldemort said nothing for a moment as Blaise finished. Blaise continued to look haughty and distant as he waited for his lord’s response. His manner was fearless as he faced his lord.

"And Nagini? My only truely faithful servant has been killed." As he said this, his eyes flashed dark red and he glared around at all the Death Eaters. "Very few of you know what she was to me, but those of you who do, know the weight of this situation. Not only has a questionably loyal servant disappeared, under the nose of those appointed to guard him, but he has managed to kill Nagini."

The Death Eaters remained silent but the tension was visibly increased in their stances. The air was thick with apprehension as Voldemort's anger hovered around them. They knew it would not be too long before someone would be punished.

Voldemort turned sharply to where Lucius stood, hidden under the dark hood. "Lucius, you are to find your son and bring him to me. He needs to learn a little loyalty. Think of this as a redeeming activity. Perhaps, if you are successful, I will overlook some of your past lapses in judgment."

Lucius bowed low, grateful to be let out of the current punishment. "Yes, my lord."

"And hurry, won't you?" he asked in a threatening voice. Lucius nodded and was gone in a crack.

Voldemort turned to the remaining Death Eaters, his face twisting into a cruel smile as he watched them all. Blaise remained standing as though bored by the proceedings. His head was held high while he waited for the punishment to be given. He could have been doing much better things with his time.

Voldemort started to say something then paused. Instead, he turned to Blaise. "Zabini, you may leave. Go back to your post and keep an eye out for Draco. We do not know what he may do. If you find him, bring him to me immediately."

"Of course, my lord," Blaise replied, his dark eyes glittering. He bowed and also Apparated out of the room.

This left only a few trembling Death Eaters, and one who stood off to the side. Voldemort beckoned one forward, waiting until the trembling Death Eater was situated in front of him.

"Dolohov," he addressed the man. "Perhaps you also need a little reminder of what it is to be my servant."

Dolohov's eyes widened as Voldemort raised his wand, a cruel smile on his lips. " _Crucio!_ "

Dolohov immediately dropped to the ground, writhing and screaming in pain. The rest of the group watched him, no emotions showing on their faces as the man before them shrieked and thrashed.

Voldemort kept him like this for some time until he decided to stop. He pulled away his wand, leaving the panting man on the floor. Voldemort looked up at the remaining Death Eaters, as though daring them to challenge his authority. When none did, he spoke.

"Let that be a lesson for future mistakes; there will be none. Now, leave me."

There was a flurry of cloaks and cracks as the Death Eaters Apparated out of the room. Only one was left. He seemed to know that the Dark Lord had not finished with him and desired his presence.

Voldemort turned around slowly and caught sight of the man. He waved his wand and a high-backed chair appeared out of the sky, dropping to the floor with a loud thud. He sat down in it imperially.

"Snape," he greeted the man. "What do you have to report?"

Snape moved forward, dropping his hood. His sallow face looked pale in the singular light from the window. He stood before the Dark Lord calmly.

"My lord, the giants have destroyed a small village outside London. There was general panic. Many Muggles have died; the Muggle Ministry keeps telling them it's because of hurricanes. The attack on the London Underground went well, though we lost a few in the battle. Members of the Order showed up halfway through."

Voldemort scowled as he heard this. How were these Order members learning of his plans? He supposed there must be a spy in his ranks. He disregarded it for the moment, though, wanting his more pressing questions answered.

"And have you discovered where Potter has disappeared to?"

"I have not," Snape replied swiftly. "After he left Godric's Hollow, there have been no sightings and none of the trackers can find him."

"Well, he can't have disappeared off the edge of the map!" Voldemort hissed in a menacing voice. "Are you sure he is not at the Headquarters?"

"I cannot tell. The place is sealed to me now that I am no longer in their trust. He could be there, but it would be pointless to try and get in. I was not the secret-keeper. Dumbledore was, and with his death went the location of the Headquarters."

Voldemort scowled again. This was not what he wanted to hear. His own servants couldn't keep track of a single boy. It was not that difficult to follow someone, keep undercover, and learn his habits. At times, he wondered if he oughtn’t do all this himself.

"Have you heard anything of Draco?"

"No, my lord. He is quite adept at disappearances as Potter I'm afraid. He will be difficult to find and catch, especially if he doesn't want to be."

"Have you any theory as to how he escaped?" Voldemort's voice was dangerously cold as he spoke to Snape. He watched him carefully, like he thought maybe Snape had been an accomplice.

"The most likely is that Dolohov is a very stupid man and easily overpowered and manipulated. Draco is a smart boy. He could have done it all by himself if he chose to."

"But did he do it all by himself?" Voldemort asked, his eyes flashing viciously. 

"I don't know, my lord. It is possible he had help, but there is always that possibility with everything in a war."

Voldemort was not pleased with the answer. He couldn't believe the boy had managed to escape under the watch of two Death Eaters and his trusted Nagini. But now Nagini was dead, killed by an Electrocution Curse straight through her body.

He had thought she was well protected. Even the Killing Curse could not have punctured her skin. He had noticed the tiny slit on her scales through which the curse had entered. He knew she was a powerfully magical creature and he had expected her to be protected against even the simplest spells which is why he had added only protection against the more deadly spells. He wanted to know how a simple spell had led to her downfall so easily.

At the moment, though, his priority was to find Draco and Potter. He needed to know where they both were to ensure that nothing went wrong in his plans. He had not expected Draco to attempt an escape, or to actually succeed. Potter had given his Death Eaters the slip in broad daylight too! It was imperative to find out where he was.

He didn't like the idea that Potter was out there somewhere, biding his time, probably figuring out a way to kill him. Voldemort nearly laughed at the thought. How would Potter kill him? He had the protection of his many Horcruxes. Even if Nagini was dead, he still had at least four left. He doubted very much if Potter had even ever heard of a Horcrux.

He looked up at Snape, who had been waiting patiently for some direction. "Very well, Snape. Return to your task. I want to know where Potter is, quickly!"

Snape nodded and bowed low then Apparated away, leaving Voldemort alone to contemplate on the many questions that needed answers.

***

Blaise sighed as he reappeared in a dark alleyway. He walked out casually, brushing off the Muggle clothes he wore. He looked around disdainfully, taking in his surroundings. He stood on a busy Muggle street; full of honking cars, people dragging children down the street, and businessmen hurrying along in their suits and ties.

Blaise straightened his posture into his well-bred stature and started down the street. He received a few approving glances from several people as he continued down the road. He disregarded them all. It was not his job to pay attention to the blathering people who were attracted to him. He had a job to do, after all.

He came to where the tall buildings ended and the road stretched on before him, turning into fields as it went out of town. He paused for a moment, seemingly deciding which way to go. In the end, he turned to his right and took a small walking path which wound past the buildings bordering it on the one side. 

Blaise followed it past the end of the buildings and down into a dark, ominous forest. He didn't hesitate, only plunged in, still following the narrow path.

He wound through bushes and in-between tall tree trunks. He was always on the alert, listening for any kind of sound. He went further on, pushing aside branches and letting them pull together behind him, throwing the path into darkness.

He stopped after about ten minutes. He stood, listening intently. Around him, he could hear the chirp of birds and rustling of leaves. There was a trickle of water somewhere off to his left. The path before him split a little way on, veering to the left or right.

Instead of continuing on the path, Blaise stepped off and into the underbrush. He grimaced as brambles caught his clothes, attempting to restrain him. He just pulled out his wand, blasting them apart as he went. He didn't care about secrecy at this point. He was so deeply ensconced in this forest that it was pointless anyway.

He held his wand down by his side as he approached the middle of a cluster of trees. Here, there was barely enough light to be able to see by. Blaise disregarded the uneasy feeling that had come over him and pushed on. 

He pushed aside tree branches, crunching bushes and sticks in his way. He crept cautiously forward, sensing something was near. He stopped again, listening hard.

After a moment or two, he stepped to the side. He put a Silencing Charm on his body as he sneaked through the bushes. His body was obscured by the shadows as he went further.

Finally, he came to a large tree. It sprung up before him, towering up many feet above him. He placed his hand carefully on the trunk and stood motionless for a second.

He cautiously moved around the large trunk, his expression knowing and satisfied. He walked to the other side of the tree, finding it was just a normal trunk. He stepped back, bringing up his wand once more.

He pointed it directly at a spot near the base of the tree. With a slashing motion, a large X appeared on the tree and the bark began to peel away. Blaise stepped back, smirking maliciously.

The bark peeled away to reveal a small opening near the base, just barely big enough for a very small person to fit through. Blaise took a step forward and bent down.

"Well, hello, Draco. Fancy seeing you here."

~~**~~

_  
A/N: Chapter 15, yay! We're nearly halfway through... :) Please review!_


	16. Caught

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After Dumbledore's death and Draco's disappearance, Harry knows what he has to do. He must find and save his boyfriend while concealing the relationship, destroy the Horcruxes that will ultimately destroy Voldemort, and deal with his grief. With Ron and Hermione by his side, he may just have a chance. ~Sequel to Falling Away with You~

  
Author's notes: After Dumbledore's death and Draco's disappearance, Harry knows what he has to do. He must find and save his boyfriend while concealing the relationship, destroy the Horcruxes that will ultimately destroy Voldemort, and deal with his grief. With Ron and Hermione by his side, he may just have a chance. ~Sequel to Falling Away with You~  


* * *

*

Draco sneered up at Blaise's smirking face from where he sat, crunched into a small ball inside the tree trunk. His arms were crossed over his chest defensively as he glared at Blaise. 

"How did you find me?" he asked disdainfully. He scooted further back into the hole, not daring to go out and into the vulnerable forest.

Blaise scoffed and placed a hand on his hip. "Please, Draco, I know you better than anyone."

_No, you don't,_ Draco thought bitterly. "And why would that help you?"

"Because, my dear Dragon, you happen to be predictable to anyone who cares to notice. It's not hard to know that, when you're scared, you take off for a secluded and hidden little spot that few people know of."

"And how did you come to know of it?" Draco sneered. His silver eyes flashed as he glared up at Blaise from inside his tiny hidey-hole.

Blaise crouched down, glancing around momentarily, as if to make sure they were truly alone. "I watch and listen," he said simply. "I've seen you disappearing during the summer months before. I've followed you, though no one else has."

"You've followed me?" Draco repeated scathingly. "And you haven't told anyone? Not even your beloved Lord?"

"There's no reason to be hostile," Blaise replied coldly. "What I keep to myself is my own business."

"Wouldn't you get in to trouble if they found out you'd been withholding information?" Draco asked in an innocent voice.

"Who says they're ever going to find out?" Blaise whispered menacingly. "Like I said, Draco, you're not the only Occlumens in this world."

Draco rolled his eyes but remained determinedly scrunched up in the tiny hole in the tree trunk. He refused to come out until he was sure it was safe. Though Blaise had helped him several times, he knew better than to trust him more than was necessary.

"So why did you come to find me? To take me back to the madman? Make me suffer for my crimes?" Draco mocked. He knew he shouldn't be pushing it so much, but his fear and anger were getting the best of him.

"Actually, I'm not the one looking for you," Blaise replied smoothly, his voice back to normal. He held Draco's eyes for a moment as they remained in the dark forest. "Your father is."

"Wonderful," Draco said sarcastically. He knew just what his father would do if he found him. All of a sudden, going back to Voldemort didn't seem like such a bad thing. He had just been lucky his father had not caught him before when he'd been at home.

"The Dark Lord is not happy about your escape. He seems particularly distraught that you killed that idiotic snake of his. Personally, I think it was a good idea. That snake was a damned nuisance."

"That bloody snake tried to eat me," Draco said darkly. "She deserved it."

"More to the point," Blaise said, “you escaped right under his nose and I know no one will find you here. I'm the only one who knows about this. But what are you doing hiding in a tree? Surely, you're much too _brave_ for that." He stressed the word brave unnecessarily, causing Draco to regard him suspiciously for a moment, wondering if he didn't know more than he let on. It was entirely possible with Blaise.

"I was not _hiding_ ," Draco replied scathingly. "I was merely thinking in a safe spot. Or it was safe until you showed up."

"It's still safe, in a manner of speaking," Blaise said, a smirk twisting his mouth. "And what were you thinking about?"

"Like I would tell you," Draco sneered. He knew perfectly well that, as much as Blaise had helped already, there was no guarantee of that in the future. 

He had been _trying_ to figure out a way to find Harry. He felt much better now that he had a few things from home, but it still irked him that he had no way of finding Harry. He knew any spell he could cast would be useless. Harry was too smart to allow anyone to set a Tracking Spell on him, and, even if he wasn't, Hermione would have done it for him.

He looked back to Blaise, who had settled himself onto the ground at the entrance to the tree. Draco groaned silently, knowing Blaise wouldn't leave until he was done.

"What do you want?" he asked, annoyed.

"What every man wants," Blaise replied loftily, and Draco rolled his eyes. 

"Could you be a little more specific?"

Blaise paused for a moment, appearing to be thinking. Then he looked back at Draco, a malicious glitter in his hazel eyes. "I want fame, fortune, loyalty, some good fucks, you know, all the basics."

Draco sneered and rolled his eyes. He knew his friend could be quite crude at times if he so wished. Blaise had an amazing personality. Every day, Draco learned something new.

"What does that have to do with me?" he asked scathingly.

"Nothing really," Blaise said, shrugging. "Although, you would bring me fame, fortune, and a good fuck."

Draco merely glared at him, trying to burn a hole in him with his eyes. "Well, you're fucking better off looking somewhere else."

"You're really not in a position to bargain here," Blaise told him, watching him intently. "You're stuck in a tree with a stolen wand that won't do you much good, and nothing else."

"I managed to escape from that dismal prison all by my itty bitty self. I think I can handle you." He didn't happen to mention that he had his own wand and a few choice objects that would be very useful in escaping.

"You got lucky," Blaise said indifferently. "Dolohov isn't the most talented wizard."

"Then it was a good thing it was him instead of my dear Aunt Bella."

Blaise gave a derisive laugh as he continued to watch Draco. "Yeah, it was good, but then, it's not like He would have let Bella in to see you anyway. She’s not exactly in his confidence since the fiasco at the Ministry a couple years ago." Blaise paused, seemingly sizing up Draco. He stood up then and Draco had to crane his neck out of the hole to look at him.

"What are you doing?" he asked suspiciously.

"I have a mission to do," Blaise replied coldly and Draco's eyes widened. Blaise glanced down at him for a second then looked away quickly. "You know, Draco," he said thoughtfully. "Isn't it strange that, no matter what we're taught, it all comes back to habits in the end?"

With that, Blaise took off, striding into the forest, leaving Draco to puzzle on his last words. He quickly did up the tree bark that Blaise had torn apart and settled back, doing his best to figure out what to do and where to go.

Blaise pushed his way through the trees, climbing over brambles and bushes. After much ripping of fabric, he rolled his eyes and took out his wand, once more blasting a random path out of the forest. He finally came to the main footpath and followed its winding way out to the edge of the trees.

Just before stepping into the dimming sunlight, he waved his wand over his clothes, fixing any scratches and rips in the fabric. Then he pointed the wand at his face. His hair changed from dark brown to a nearly black color. His eyes morphed into a light turquoise color. His nose got smaller and his skin lightened a shade.

When he was finally satisfied with his appearance, he stowed the wand back in his pocket and took the path back to the city. He strode up the path and turned onto the street that he'd been on previously. The street lamps were beginning to turn on as dusk fell in the late summer evening. It was nearly ten o'clock at night already.

Blaise slowed his stride down to more of a saunter as he walked down the grey streets of the city. As he turned onto another street, the sky darkened to a dusky blue. He walked down this far more lively street. Many men hung out in alcoves around it.

He ignored the cat calls and walked past the men to a rather large building. From outside, he could already hear the loud thump of music. The line to get in was nearly around the block, but Blaise wasted no time in walking to the front.

He gave the bouncer a seductive smile and was immediately granted access, much to the distress of the rest of the crowd. Ignoring the complaints of the crowd, Blaise slid right in, hearing the velvet rope click behind him.

He wound his way through the grinding bodies, making for the bar on the other side of the room. There, he ordered a drink and leant back against the counter to watch the many writhing bodies on the dance floor.

His now blue eyes flashed across the room, surveying all the men present. They fell on a couple dancing halfway across the room. One was tall and dark-haired, well-muscled. The other was short and blond, not much to look at.

Blaise took another sip of his drink and watched as the song ended and the dark-haired boy dismissed his dancing partner. The boy sighed, looking bored. He had clearly been looking for a little more action that night.

Blaise's eyes were fixed on the boy as he moved through the crowd, looking for someone better to dance with. He was soon taken up on his offer by some other brown-haired man. Blaise did a quick summation on the boy. He could tell he was young, Blaise's age, only seventeen. He was clearly experienced in the ways of men by the way he was dancing with the older man.

He watched as the boy again dismissed this partner at the end of the song. He looked disappointed once more and Blaise took his opportunity. He slid through the crowd easily, coming up to the side of the dark-haired boy.

"Hey," he greeted him casually, catching his attention. "Saw you dancing. You're not too bad."

The boy raised an eyebrow as he visibly took in Blaise's body and face. "Do I know you?"

"Doubtful," Blaise replied. "But would you like to?"

The boy said nothing for a moment, clearly thinking it over. "Wanna dance?" he asked finally. Blaise nodded and they moved onto the dance floor as another techno beat swept up around them.

"What's your name?" the dark-haired boy asked over the thumping of the music.

"Chris Riley," Blaise replied as they moved to the music. "You?"

"Michael Corner," Michael replied, grabbing Blaise's hips and pulling them flush against him.

Blaise smirked at him as he felt Michael's growing erection pressing into his thigh. Michael looked up at him and gave him a seductive smile. He moved their hips together suggestively, grinding their hard erections together in time with the pounding music.

They ground together, their breaths coming in hot puffs against one another's skin. Michael tilted his head up to looked in Blaise's eyes, silently asking him. Blaise pressed his lips against Michael, thrusting his tongue into the warm caverns of his mouth. He pulled Michael closer by his hips as the kiss continued.

His tongue lashed at his mouth, drinking in all of his taste, pulling on his lower lip in a show of dominance. Michael groaned into the kiss, feeling his member hardening even more rapidly as Blaise's hands slid around to grasp his ass, squeezing it lightly.

Finally, Michael pulled out of the kiss, panting heavily. He looked up at Blaise through lust-glaze eyes. He leaned in, his lips barely brushing Blaise's as they continued to move together in a seductive dance, and whispered, "Want to get out of here?"

Blaise's only response was to kiss Michael harshly and possessively. Michael's groan was muffled and his hands came up to grasp the back of Blaise's tee shirt. Blaise pulled away with a nip to Michaels' lower lip and grinned at him, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

"Lead on," he whispered in Michael's ear, flicking out his tongue teasingly.

Michael grabbed Blaise's hand and led him towards the door and out into the cool night air. They left the main street and went down a second alleyway until Michael turned sharply, glancing around carefully. Then he pushed open a concealed door and ushered Blaise in.

Inside was a nicely furnished little room. Blaise thought that this must have been magically altered. He couldn't say anything, though. Michael was unaware that he was wizard and he intended to keep it that way, for now.

Michael shut the door and Blaise heard him whisper something. He turned away from Michael as he smirked. Instead, his eyes roved over the room, taking in the low bed in one corner and a desk that sat on the opposite wall.

Blaise moved over to the desk as Michael shut the door and set his locking spells. On the table sat a few papers that looked like lists of things. In large letters, it was emblazoned OtP and underlined. He went to reach for it but found it pulled out from under his fingertips.

Michael gave him a smile and shoved the papers into a drawer in the desk. "Sorry, it's for a video game. My friends are trying to beat all the levels. They make lists of everything they need to defeat it."

Blaise nodded and gave an understanding smile. Michael just shrugged and smiled good-naturedly, but Blaise could tell he had been worried for a second. It was all forgotten, though, when Michael took a deep breath and wrapped his arms around Blaise's neck, smiling coyly at him.

"So was there something you came here to do?" he asked, looking up at Blaise mischievously.

"As a matter of fact, yes," Blaise replied, pushing Michael backwards and onto the low bed. He crawled on top of him, making sure to brush his fingers over the dark-haired boy's body.

His fingers skimmed underneath Michael’s tee shirt, coming into contact with the tanned skin. Michael gave a groan and arched into the touch. Blaise smirked at his eagerness and hastily pushed up the shirt to Michael's chin. He took in the sight of the tanned and toned muscles of his stomach. His fingers traveled nimbly up the body, circling the hardened nipples, tweaking them slightly.

"Oh, fuck," Michael breathed as Blaise continued his teasing of his chest. 

Blaise took away his fingers moments later, replacing them with his mouth. His tongue darted out, wetting the nubs as his teeth barely scraped the skin. Michael gave a low moan as Blaise continued to torture him using just his tongue. His hands were not touching Michael, though he begged to be touched.

Michael's hands scrabbled around on the covers, desperate for something to hold onto. Blaise stopped teasing him, raising his head and smirking at the panting boy beneath him. He moved upward, his body sliding gracefully forward, his erection rubbing against Michael's throbbing cock.

He pressed kisses to Michael's neck, drinking in the smell of the Ravenclaw. He nipped at the flesh on his jaw line, running his tongue over the spot momentarily. He nibbled on the skin of his neck, licking and sucking torturously.

Michael keened desperately as Blaise' continued his exploration of his neck. He needed more friction than Blaise was creating at the moment. He reached down and grasped Blaise's hips, grinding them down into his pulsing erection.

Blaise gasped as a shot of electricity shot through his body, sending his nerves into a tingling frenzy. He only increased the fervor of his attack, now abandoning Michael's neck and bringing down his mouth hard on Michael's lips.

Michael allowed himself to be taken in the kiss, to let Blaise thrust his tongue greedily into the hot caverns of his mouth, suck on the plump flesh of his lower lip. His hands were still on Blaise's hips, crashing their fiery cocks together in a pressing heat.

Michael moaned loudly into Blaise's mouth. He was so hot he could barely stand it. His skin felt like it was on fire every time their erections pressed together in the clash of heat. He took a leg and wrapped it around Blaise's legs, holding him in place for the time-being.

The kiss had become fevered and rushed and, soon, Blaise was forced to pull away, panting harshly as he bent over Michael. Their erections still rubbed together, making it quite difficult to form a coherent thought.

Blaise moved back for a second, knowing he had to gain control of himself. While he did this, he reached down in between their bodies and undid the buttons on Michael's Muggle jeans. He pushed them down forcefully, slipping them over Michael's slim hips. He finally got them off and tossed them to the side.

Then he took some time to remove his own, all the while gathering his wits. He knew he couldn't let this distract him. He pulled off his own jeans and tossed them away as well then looked back at Michael.

His body was spread wantonly on the mattress, his leaking erection begging for attention. Blaise removed his boxers and climbed back up Michael's body. 

"Got any lube?" he whispered in his ear. Michael nodded fervidly, indicating one of the bedside tables. Blaise reached over and opened the top drawer to find a tube of lubricant and quite a few condoms. Blaise grabbed the tube and a condom and slammed the drawer shut.

"Put it on me," he whispered in a husky voice. Michael took the condom and rolled it over Blaise's cock quite skillfully. Blaise supposed he must have had tons of practice. So much for being a respectable, law-abiding Ravenclaw.

Blaise took the lube, spreading liberal amounts over his fingers and cock. He raised Michael's legs up and placed the over his shoulders. Then he took a finger and pressed it into Michael's entrance, relishing in the gasp he received as he pressed it in further. He slid it in and out then added a second finger, making sure he was properly stretched. 

He watched as Michael's face contorted in pleasure. Finally, he slid the fingers from the well-oiled entrance and replaced them with the head of his already leaking cock. He pushed in slowly, gritting his teeth as the hot sheath engulfed his cock.

Once he was fully buried in Michael's tight ass, he began to move. He slid in and out quite easily at first, slamming his hips hard against Michael's, ramming his cock into the hot body.

"Fucking hell, Chris!" Michael cried as Blaise moved ruthlessly, his hands bracing himself on either side of Michael's head.

He thrust into the tight body beneath his, gasping as the muscles clenched around his cock needily.

"Fuck, Michael-- you're so--" Blaise panted, unable to get out a full sentence as he slammed back into Michael's body.

His thrusts became more erratic as he felt his climax nearing. He didn't want to finish so soon but he couldn't control his body much longer. He pushed in harder and was surprised as Michael's hips slammed up to meet his, sending waves of heat all through his body.

Michael's breathing was heavy and sharp as Blaise moved in his body, brushing against that spot. He cried out, cursing, and his body convulsed as his erection overtook him. He came hard, shooting all over Blaise's taut stomach.

Blaise felt Michael cum and could no longer hold back as the muscles clenched around his cock, driving him to an explosive climax. He shot deep inside the condom inside the dark-haired boy's body, feeling jolts of electricity run through his body.

His body shuddered as he came down from his high and he collapsed on the bed. They lay there together, breathing heavily for some time; each trying to gain back his common sense.

Blaise removed himself from Michael's body carefully. He turned over on the bed, reaching for something in his pants. Michael said nothing, staring at the ceiling, quite sated. 

"Well, that was good," Blaise said conversationally after a moment and Michael looked at him, smiling slightly. "But I've had better."

There was a blinding flash of green and Michael lay completely still on the bed. Blaise spared him no glance as he pushed himself on the bed. He cast a Cleaning Spell on himself and the body on the bed.

He dressed quickly and went over to the desk. He broke Michael's Locking Charms and pulled out the paper bearing the Order of the Phoenix name. He shoved them into his pocket and turned around, looking at the boy on the bed.

His expression was one of confusion. Blaise just rolled his eyes and waved his wand again. The corpse was gone in a flourish, leaving only the empty bed. Blaise walked back over to the door, undid the wards, and stepped out into the darkness of the night.

 

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_  
A/N: Well, it seems I'm not going to get this posted before July *sigh* but I'll continue anyway :) Please review!_


	17. Sectumsempra

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After Dumbledore's death and Draco's disappearance, Harry knows what he has to do. He must find and save his boyfriend while concealing the relationship, destroy the Horcruxes that will ultimately destroy Voldemort, and deal with his grief. With Ron and Hermione by his side, he may just have a chance. ~Sequel to Falling Away with You~

  
Author's notes: After Dumbledore's death and Draco's disappearance, Harry knows what he has to do. He must find and save his boyfriend while concealing the relationship, destroy the Horcruxes that will ultimately destroy Voldemort, and deal with his grief. With Ron and Hermione by his side, he may just have a chance. ~Sequel to Falling Away with You~  


* * *

*

 

Harry spent several days holed up in Grimmauld Place, talking rarely and eating just as much. He preferred to sit on his bed, alternately searching the Pensieve or berating himself for staying safely in this house while he could be trying to find Draco.

Several more members of the Order had come to 'visit' him. More likely, they had come to check up on him. Every time he heard a knock on the door (they had finally learned not to ring the bell), he would retreat further into the house.

On the third day of his seclusion, Harry heard a quiet knock on his bedroom door. He closed the spell book he'd been reading with a sigh and reluctantly granted admission.

Hermione came in, a look of apprehension and worry on her face. She was clutching what looked like a newspaper in her hands as she moved closer to Harry.

"What is it?" Harry asked. Everyday, the paper reported more deaths, attacks. He had learned to block it out as time had gone on. 

"It's... there was another death," she said slowly.

Harry supposed it must be important if she was so worried. He sat up straighter on his bed and scooted forward to the edge. "Who?"

"Michael Corner," Hermione said. "He was in the Order, just joined. And they don't think it was a random attack."

"Why not?" Harry knew of Michael Corner; Ginny had dated him his fifth year.

"Well, Michael had some papers from the Order, and they can't find them anywhere."

"Papers? What kind of papers?!" Harry asked pressingly.

"I--I don't know. The whole Order is being very tight-lipped about the whole thing. I really can't tell how important the papers were."

"Oh," Harry said, feeling deflated. Obviously, it was important if someone, most likely Death Eaters, had wanted the papers. Or maybe they had simply taken the opportunity to kill a member of the Order.

Hermione gave him an odd look and moved to sit down next to him on the bed. He gave her a questioning look as she studied him. "What?"

"Harry," she said softly. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

Harry hesitated a second, thoughts flashing through his head. He had a mental image of Draco standing before the weak-kneed Dumbledore, wand poised and ready; Draco lying in his bed, his eyes showing his true emotions, Rose telling him that not all was lost. In the end, he shook his head and sighed. "No, nothing."

"Well, Harry," she said, clearly not believing him but seemingly letting it go, "you need to eat something or at least get out of this room."

Harry sighed again. He didn't want to see anybody. He dreaded the thought of going downstairs and having to talk with people, pretend to be a well-adjusted boy for one more night.

"Come on," Hermione wheedled. "Just come to the kitchen with me. I'll make you something."

Harry glanced at her, his expression now skeptical. He didn't believe she had ever cooked for them and wasn't exactly sure how well she would do. She seemed to know his thoughts as she put her hands on her hips and glared at him. "I can cook better than I can knit!"

"I should hope so," Harry muttered then grinned as she continued to look indignant. "Alright, alright, I'll come."

She looked a bit happier as he heaved himself to the floor, hoping there wouldn't be a party downstairs to receive him. He followed Hermione out to the landing and down the stairs to the kitchen.

To his great relief, there was no one in the kitchen but Ron. He looked surprised to see Hermione come in with Harry.

"Hey, mate! You're alive!" he said jokingly. Harry gave him a half-smile and Ron frowned, discouraged.

Hermione instructed him to sit at the table and went about the kitchen, finding things to cook for lunch. Harry and Ron sat in silence for a while, each trying to find someway to break the awkwardness that had been procured.

All of a sudden, Harry gave a small yelp. "Ouch!"

Ron and Hermione turned to him sharply, both looking at him worriedly. "What's wrong?" Hermione asked immediately.

"It's nothing," Harry said dismissively, rubbing his wrist. "I got a splinter from the table."

Ron and Hermione didn't look appeased but said nothing more. Hermione returned to her cooking and Ron went back to staring at the table morosely.

Harry, meanwhile, glared down at the tiny snake on his wrist. It was slithering around the bracelet, appearing quite agitated. Harry wondered if this snake was charmed to follow his emotions. Then again, it always seemed to know when he was doing something he oughtn't.

The snake had taken to nipping him suddenly in the last few days. He would be doing absolutely nothing and the snake would sink its tiny fangs into Harry's wrist. He disliked this constant reminder of how badly a job he was doing of finding Draco. But the snake brought him a kind of comfort, something to remind him that Draco was still out there somewhere. He just had to find him.

Harry looked up as Hermione set down a plate of food in front of him. He poked at it experimentally for a second and Hermione scoffed indignantly. "Just try it, why don't you?"

He gave her an innocent smile before taking a bite. To his surprise, it wasn't half bad. He made an agreeable sound and she just rolled her eyes. He went on eating while Ron and Hermione watched him carefully.

They seemed to be steeling themselves to ask him something. He continued eating, oblivious to anything around him. Hermione sent Ron an imploring look and he shrugged slightly. She rolled her eyes and shook her head, and then plopped down in one of the chairs across from Harry at the scrubbed wooden table.

Harry felt her eyes growing on him as he bent his head. He said nothing, focusing on finishing the food she had given him. It had been, after all, several days since he'd had a real meal.

The intense staring grew worse as Harry continued to ignore Hermione's eyes. He concentrated on eating his meal, refusing to look up and meet her accusatory stare.

Finally, he could take it no more and looked up, giving a heavy sigh as he did so. "What is it, Hermione?" he asked. 

“Well, Ron and I--" She cut herself off here as Ron gave her an angry glare. "Er, I mean, _I_ ," she continued, "was wondering if you'd had any thoughts on what to do next."

She bit her lip as she watched Harry apprehensively. He leaned back in his chair and said nothing for a few minutes, thinking hard. Over the past few days, many ideas had come to him, each more ludicrous than the last. He knew they were wasting time. The time had gone by so quickly that August was fading away and September was just around the corner.

Harry dreaded the thought of trudging around snow-covered fields looking for Horcruxes while on the constant lookout for Death Eaters. He knew that would be a horrible way to go about it, but, at the moment, he had absolutely no idea as to how to find another Horcrux. They had simply gotten lucky on the last one. It had, quite literally, fallen into their laps by way of the despised house-elf.

He knew they had to leave Grimmauld Place, and the fact of the matter was that he was eager to make some progress. He felt too cooped up and restrained inside the old, musty house. The problem was that he didn't know what to do or where to go. He had no clue as to where another Horcrux might be hidden.

"I don't have any thoughts," he replied finally. "I've tried to think of where Voldemort might have hidden another Horcrux, not to mention the fact that there's one that we don't even know what it is. It could be anything! But I'm at a loss. I have no idea what to do."

Hermione gave him a sympathetic look and Harry turned away from her, not wanting any more sympathy. Ron was staring at the table, not saying anything. Harry wondered if he was even listening. But then Ron looked up, a slightly dazed expression on his face. He shook it away and turned to Harry.

"Have you tried the Pensieve?" he asked cautiously.

Harry visibly tensed at his words. They hadn't actually directly asked about the Pensieve since he had received it. "I--I've been looking. But there really isn't anything worthwhile, or if there is, I haven't seen it."

Ron nodded, seemingly embarrassed. He turned away and said nothing the rest of the time. Hermione, instead, seemed curious.

"How often do you look in there?" she asked lightly. She didn't want to upset him but she was interested to know.

"I dunno," Harry shrugged. "At least once a day, sometimes more."

Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment. "And do you go into the memories frequently?"

"Er... sometimes. I guess it depends."

She didn't go so far as to ask what it depended on. Instead, she fell into a thoughtful silence and they whiled away the afternoon in a semi-peaceful silence. Around dinner time, Hermione offered to make another meal but Harry declined. He excused himself from the table and retreated upstairs to his bedroom.

Once there, he followed his regular routine of lifting the Pensieve from his bag and placing it in the middle of his bed. He leaned over the swirling mass of silver and poked the top with his wand. It began swirling fast, making Harry slightly dizzy to watch it.

Finally, the mist cleared and Harry found himself looking down on an empty corridor at Hogwarts. He stared down at it curiously, wondering what it was. He glanced around quickly, looking to see if anyone was around. The dark outline of Phineas Nigellus was snoozing in his portrait and Harry felt it safe to take another venture inside the Pensieve.

He leant forward, his nose touching the surface and catapulting him forward into nothingness until his feet hit solid ground. He looked around, confused. It was just an empty corridor across from the boys' bathroom on the sixth floor of the castle.

He was about to wonder why he had bothered coming when the sounds of footsteps behind him startled him. He turned around to see himself pelting down the marble stairs and right up to the bathroom door.

He watched himself for a moment, wondering what was going on. He saw Pensieve Harry press his ear up to the door then slowly push it open.

His eyes widened as he realized just what was going on. "Oh no," he said to himself. "Oh no, oh no!"

Creeping up behind his Pensieve counterpart, he slipped in the door with him. There, he saw Draco, hunched over the sink, tears rolling down his cheeks. He could hear Moaning Myrtle talking to him in a soothing voice.

He saw himself watching Draco in wonderment as he stood at the sink. It was with a sinking feeling that Harry knew what was coming next. 

Draco was talking to Myrtle, saying something about someone killing him, when he looked up and saw Pensieve Harry in the mirror. His eyes widened and he whipped around, wand out and pointed at Harry.

Harry watched as curses flew through the air, shattering things left and right. Myrtle was screaming, the sound bouncing around the room and giving Harry a headache.

He saw Draco's face contort with fury as he raised his wand and yelled, " _Cruci--_ "

" _Sectum--_ "

"NO!" Harry cried, his unheard cry drowning out his counterpart’s words. It wasn't enough to stop it, though. The curse ripped through Draco's chest, blood spurting everywhere.

Harry could have sworn his heart stopped as he watched, for the second time in his life, Draco nearly die. He saw himself dropping to his knees, helpless to do anything against the wave of crimson that was pouring from Draco's chest.

His ears were so full of the pounding blood he barely heard Myrtle's shrieks or the crash of the doors. Snape rushed in, running straight through him and to Draco. He shoved Pensieve Harry away roughly and attended to Draco, stitching up his wounds as best he could.

Harry was in a daze as he watched Snape direct his counterpart to wait there in a dangerously quiet voice, full of punishment to come. Harry wanted to follow Snape but knew it was no use. He had no knowledge of what had happened to Draco after Snape had left, only what had happened to him. Doubtless, if he walked out that door, he would find only white mist as before.

So he waited with his horrified self. He remembered all too well the fear that had gripped him in those moments. He had been scared out of his wits at what he had done, and to whom. 

In next to no time, Snape had returned and he was glaring down at Pensieve Harry, who quailed under his penetrating stare.

He asked him where he had learned the spell, what book. Harry saw himself lying, badly. He should have known Snape was smarter than that. Especially since he had written the spell, though Harry hadn't known that at the time.

He vaguely heard Snape ordering Pensieve Harry to bring him his school books. Harry didn't want to follow, but he had no choice as his counterpart flung himself from the room. Luckily, he didn't have to worry about running into people as they hurtled up the stairs and into the common room, up to the boys' dormitory and demanded Ron's Potions book.

Harry wondered why he had thought Snape would believe him. He followed reluctantly as Pensieve Harry ran down the stairs and out the common room. He stopped suddenly in front of a blank space of wall and began walking quickly back and forth in front of it.

Harry was puzzled for a moment. This part of this memory seemed to have left his mind. He sort of remembered hiding the book but had little recollection of where he had done it.

In a moment, a door appeared in the stone wall and both Harrys went in. Harry looked around, amazed he had forgotten this place. Then again, he had been quite distracted by his impending doom to worry about it.

He followed his counterpart down rows of forgotten objects; books, clothes, banned objects. It would be Fred and George's playground, Harry thought randomly. His eyes traveled over the mountains of junk and possible treasures that surely lay hidden in the object-lined streets.

He followed his counterpart down a long aisle, past the Vanishing Cabinet. Harry's stomach gave an unpleasant lurch at the sight of it. It stood, quite alone, seemingly innocent. He tore his eyes from it as Pensieve Harry ran down to a large cabinet, shoving his book inside and placing a few objects on its top for easy location later.

While his counterpart was busy disguising his book, Harry looked around in wonder at the piles of rubbish. He thought that this would be the perfect place to hide anything. It wasn't like many people knew of this room, only those who knew the castle extremely well. And even so, most people probably forgot about what they had put in here in the first place, judging by the incredible number of books. It was very unlikely that many people returned to this particular room after they had used it once. 

A sudden idea struck Harry as he gazed around the mountainous piles of junk. His mouth dropped open as the thought struck him. He barely noticed his counterpart sprinting back down the path and, before he knew it, all had turned to white mist and he was being thrown from the memory.

He landed haphazardly on his bed, his hair askew and his mouth still open. He hastily shrunk the Pensieve, shoving it back in his bag. Then he opened the door and sprinted downstairs, surprising Ron and Hermione as he slid into the kitchen.

"Ron, Hermione!" he panted. "I think I've figured out where to go."

 

~~**~~

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A/N: Sadly, now I'm pretty sure this won't be all posted by July since I won't have internet in July or August. I'll try my best to get as much done beforehand, though :) Please review!  



	18. In Training

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After Dumbledore's death and Draco's disappearance, Harry knows what he has to do. He must find and save his boyfriend while concealing the relationship, destroy the Horcruxes that will ultimately destroy Voldemort, and deal with his grief. With Ron and Hermione by his side, he may just have a chance. ~Sequel to Falling Away with You~

  
Author's notes: After Dumbledore's death and Draco's disappearance, Harry knows what he has to do. He must find and save his boyfriend while concealing the relationship, destroy the Horcruxes that will ultimately destroy Voldemort, and deal with his grief. With Ron and Hermione by his side, he may just have a chance. ~Sequel to Falling Away with You~  


* * *

*

"What are we waiting for?! Let's go!"

Harry glared around at Ron and Hermione, who were sitting at the table of Grimmauld Place's kitchen. It had been over a day since he had announced his glorious revelation to them. They needed to go to Hogwarts. Unfortunately, Ron and Hermione hadn't jumped up as he had expected.

"Harry, we can't just rush in there," Hermione said calmly as Harry seethed in front of her. He wanted to get going!

"Well, we have to do something!" he exclaimed, annoyed by her calm attitude.

"Of course," she agreed, "but this _is_ Hogwarts we're talking about. Their security is tighter than ever. We can't just walk in there unannounced."

"So call McGonagall!" Harry said, as though it was obvious.

"I will!" Hermione defended herself. "But you have to give it a little time, okay?"

Harry huffed and crossed his arms across his chest. He didn't want to wait. Every moment spent waiting was a moment wasted. The sooner they found and destroyed the Horcruxes, the sooner he could find Draco and finish this war.

"How much time?" he asked grudgingly. He hated waiting when he could have already been there and searching the Room of Requirement. He just knew there was something in there worthwhile; he just had to find it.

"I don't know, Harry," Hermione said consolingly. "I'll work on it. Just try to relax for a minute, okay?"

"Fine," he muttered angrily, flopping down in one of the kitchen chairs and glaring at the table.

Hermione watched him for a second then got up from the table and walked over to the fireplace. She took a handful of the green powder from the mantle and threw it into the flames. Then she stuck her head in, calling out a name.

Ron and Harry exchanged a surprised glance then went over to the fireplace and dropped to their knees. They couldn't hear anything that was going on, so they sat back and waited impatiently.

"Do you think she's gone mad?" Ron asked conversationally as Hermione's hands made a gesture, unseen by her correspondent.

"It's quite possible, but then again, she's very useful sometimes," Harry replied. Ron gave a nod of agreement and they both fell back into silence, waiting for Hermione to pull her head out of the fire.

Half an hour later, Harry and Ron were both lying on their backs, staring at the ceiling, idly twiddling their thumbs. They were startled as Hermione's face appeared above them. Harry sat up so quickly, he nearly hit her in the nose.

She jerked back just in time, looking surprised. "Careful, Harry," she admonished. 

He nodded, not really paying any attention. Beside him, Ron pushed himself into a sitting position, watching Hermione interestedly.

"Well?" he asked eagerly.

Hermione rolled her eyes at his impatience but told him anyway. "McGonagall says we can come in three days. We have to use that time to prepare fully for what could happen, both on the way and inside the castle."

"What does that mean?"

"It means we'll actually get to do some training instead of spending our time lying around all day. Ooh, I'll get to use my new books!" She looked so excited at the prospect that Harry almost regretted his decision.

"But we can go, right?" Harry asked eagerly. He desperately wanted to get started and _do_ something.

"Yes, but three days, Harry."

"Right, three days...."

*

A day later found Harry tired and sweating, standing in Grimmauld Place's drawing room. The furniture had been pushed to the side, and he, Ron, and Hermione were standing, all three looking winded, next to the far wall.

"Well, that was... better," Hermione said slowly, and Harry scoffed.

"That was horrible, Hermione," he said. "I can do this curse, I swear!"

"Alright, alright, you want to try again?"

Both Ron and Harry nodded fervidly. They spaced themselves out, and each drew a deep breath. Hermione set out two pillows. Each had a hand-drawn face and body on it. Black dots were placed at strategic points on the pillows.

Harry raised his wand, focusing on the curse he was supposed to be mastering. He brought it down in a long slash and shouted, " _Diffinito!_ "

He hit one of the black marks, but instead of connecting the two dots that ran from one side to the other of the pillow-man's neck, a great slash ran down the pillow. Feathers spilled everywhere and Harry let out a frustrated sigh.

"Harry, you have to _aim_ ," Hermione told him.

"I am!" he exclaimed indignantly. "It's just difficult seeing as how that could be a real person and I'm slicing his neck. It's not the nicest picture to have."

"Well, it's just something you're going to have to do!" Hermione said sternly.

Harry was taken aback for a moment at Hermione's tone and words but quickly shook himself out of it. "I know, I'm trying."

Hermione looked at him sadly and shook her head. She was about to reply when there was a terrible ripping noise and feathers exploded into the room. 

Through the cascade of white feathers, Harry saw Ron holding his wand lamely by his side.

"Uh... Ron?" Harry asked.

Ron just shrugged. "It's harder than it looks, you know?"

Harry saw that his pillow was completely slashed from head to feathered toe. All of the dots had been hit, though none like they ought to have been. From his side, he heard Hermione give an exasperated sigh.

"Never mind," she sighed. "Let's just try something else." She pulled out a book from her two foot high stack that sat next to the couch and sat down on the couch, riffling through the pages.

Harry and Ron took the opportunity to rest. They had been training non-stop ever since the fire-call to McGonagall. Hermione had unearthed books Harry hadn't even known existed.

They had learned Slicing Charms, Diversionary Charms, advanced Hurling Hexes, and had worked extensively on mastering nonverbal spells; something Harry still had problems with on occasion.

Hermione flipped through the pages, occasionally folding down corners to remember. She went through nearly the entire book. Three pages from the end, she stopped, her eyes growing wide and excited.

"Oh, this would be perfect, Harry."

"What, what is it?" he asked eagerly.

Ron moved around behind Hermione to read over her shoulder. "Unplottable? You want make him Unplottable?" he asked skeptically.

"Not Unplottable, but it's a very powerful Cloaking Spell. Not as much as the Fidelius Charm, but close. It protects you from being tracked by anyone."

"That sounds interesting," Harry said slowly. "How do you do it?"

"Well, it says here we'll need to make a sort of potion to accompany the spell. We need Bicorn horn, newt blood, paprika, and a dash of sea salt."

"Why paprika?" Harry asked curiously.

Hermione shrugged. "No idea, but I think we have all these."

She set down the book and went into the kitchen, Ron and Harry trailing behind her. They watched eagerly as she pulled things down from shelves and set them on the counter. When she finally had all the ingredients, she brought them over to the stove. She lit a fire with her wand and poured in the newt's blood, cooking it until it was simmering lightly.

She added the Bicorn horn next, listening to the splash as it hit the surface. In just over a minute, the potion hissed and turned a violent shade of purple. Harry and Ron exchanged a worried glance but didn't say anything as Hermione began to stir the potion.

For eleven and a half minutes, she stirred the simmering potion. At the end of the time, she reached over and put in a teaspoon of paprika, watching as the potion slowly changed to a light violet color. It became thinner and easier to stir. Hermione checked her book once more and took up the dash of sea salt.

She backed up a little ways and Ron and Harry looked confused. She took a breath and pitched the salt into the cauldron. There was a bright explosion and a puff of smoke materialized on top of the cauldron.

Hermione came back, waving her hand to clear the smoke, and peered into the cauldron. Ron and Harry, who had been somewhat shocked by the huge explosion, crept forward. Inside the cauldron, the potion had watered down to a barely visible purple color. Harry thought it looked remarkably like Veritaserum with a purple tinge.

Hermione ladled out the still simmering potion and corked it in a few bottles. She set the bottles on the counter until she had six vials. Then she waved her wand over the cauldron, clearing it away and leaving only the slight remnants of smoke in the kitchen, wafting toward the ceiling.

"So... now what?" Ron asked. Hermione scooped up a few bottles and led the way back into the drawing room without saying anything. Harry and Ron followed curiously.

She sat down on the couch, placing the vials on her lap and reading her book closely. "According to this, someone else has to do the spell for you. It has to be someone you trust completely or else the spell is in danger of not working."

There was a moment of silence following this announcement. Harry felt suddenly awkward. Who was he supposed to choose? He trusted them both but he needed this to be done right. He knew who he had to pick in order for the spell to be successful.

He turned slowly, fearing what the reaction would be. "Hermione, would you do me?" he asked cautiously. He chanced a glance at Ron, who looked a little disappointed. "It's not you, Ron. I-I trust both of you, but I _need_ this to work. You understand, right?"

Ron gave a silent nod, his expression unreadable. Harry hoped he hadn't done anything too horrible, but Hermione was his safest choice. She was gifted with spells and he felt he could tell her anything, or almost anything. He thought she would be the most understanding of the two once he got around to telling them about Draco, something which he knew was inevitable.

Hermione was unfazed by Harry's choice. She acted as if it was no big deal and nodded in agreement. She motioned for him to sit down on the couch next to her. While still reading the book, she handed him one of the vials.

He examined it closely, really hoping that Hermione had done it right. But, then, he did trust her.

"Okay, Harry," Hermione said, reading the book closely, "you need to drink the potion and then stay perfectly still."

Harry nodded and uncorked the vial, steeling himself, then tipped the liquid down his throat. It tasted kind of like mint, but was ice cold, considering it had been boiling minutes before. He winced at the temperature but remembered that he had to remain still, so he stopped himself.

Hermione glanced down at the book one last time and raised her wand, Ron looking on interestedly.

" _Corpus Cache!_ " Hermione said carefully, waving her wand in a circular motion.

Harry suddenly got a feeling like it was snowing. Freezing cold drops of invisible water dropped onto his skin. He tried not to shiver as the cold increased. Hermione held the spell for nearly a minute, counting time on her watch.

When it was finally done, she lifted the wand and warmth washed over Harry's body and he sighed out loud.

"Did it work?" Ron asked immediately, looking closely at Harry.

"Let's try it," Hermione said slowly. She took her wand and a piece of paper. After making several motions above it that looked like she was writing in the air, the paper glowed a bright yellow. They all bent over it.

On the paper was a message, " _The wizard you have tried to locate is unable to be found. Please try again later._ "

"It worked then!" Harry cried happily. 

"Yes," Hermione replied, smiling. "Shall we do Ron, then?"

In the end, they all had the spell placed upon them and Harry felt safer, knowing that he wouldn't be able to be tracked at the very least. He supposed it didn't help if they just happened to find him. The spell was more for remaining hidden.

The success of the spell put all three of them in better moods and they worked harder and more diligently over the next two days until the time finally came to leave the safety of Grimmauld Place.

Harry stood in his bedroom, looking around at the blank walls and sparse furniture. Despite his hatred of the house, he felt a sort of attachment to it. He looked back to his bag that was only half packed.

A coughing voice startled him and he whipped around, looking around for the source of the voice.

"The Headmistress says you're late."

Harry's head turned finally to the usually blank portrait. Today, however, Phineas was leaning against his frame, looking bored.

"Only by a minute," Harry replied, relieved at having found who was talking.

"I don't know why they bother," Phineas muttered to himself. "Students don't have a clue about punctuality. If it were me, I would have used an old Timing Spell... Worked wonders when--"

"Thanks," Harry interrupted, having no desire to hear what Phineas had done to his students in his years as Headmaster.

"No respect!" Phineas sneered. "Ungrateful little beasts." And, muttering, he walked right out of his frame and out of sight. Harry just rolled his eyes and shoved the rest of his things in his bag.

He slung it over his shoulder and hurried downstairs. Ron and Hermione were already waiting in the kitchen. Hermione rolled her eyes as Harry hurried in.

"We're late!" she said urgently.

"So I've been told," he muttered. When Hermione gave him a questioning look, he elaborated. "I just received a visit from good old Phineas."

"Ah, yes," Hermione said, comprehension dawning. "Well, we have to go! The Floo network to Hogwarts is only opened for five minutes and we've wasted two already!"

"Okay, okay!" Harry exclaimed. "Let's go."

Together, all three of them squeezed into the fireplace. Hermione grabbed a handful of green powder and threw it into the flames. "Hogwarts, Headmistress' office."

Harry's stomach gave a clench at McGonagall’s new title, but he had no time to dwell on it as he was buffeted through the Floo network channels. Finally, he felt himself slowing down and he threw out his arms instinctively.

They tumbled out unceremoniously onto the Persian rug in front of the fireplace in the Head's circular office. Hermione got to her feet, taking out her wand and Vanishing the soot. Ron and Harry weren't quite that smart and merely brushed it off, spreading it further onto the rug.

"You'd think after six years of my teaching, you would have learned some manners."

Harry and Ron looked up to see Professor McGonagall standing in front of them, a tiny smile playing on her lips, but as soon as Harry looked again, it was gone.

 

~~**~~  
 _  
A/N: Please review!_


	19. Hail Hogwarts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After Dumbledore's death and Draco's disappearance, Harry knows what he has to do. He must find and save his boyfriend while concealing the relationship, destroy the Horcruxes that will ultimately destroy Voldemort, and deal with his grief. With Ron and Hermione by his side, he may just have a chance. ~Sequel to Falling Away with You~

  
Author's notes: After Dumbledore's death and Draco's disappearance, Harry knows what he has to do. He must find and save his boyfriend while concealing the relationship, destroy the Horcruxes that will ultimately destroy Voldemort, and deal with his grief. With Ron and Hermione by his side, he may just have a chance. ~Sequel to Falling Away with You~  


* * *

*

"Erm, hello, Professor," Harry said awkwardly, feeling slightly embarrassed at his entrance. He took his wand from his pocket and cleaned the remaining soot off. Beside him, Ron did as well while blushing furiously. Hermione merely rolled her eyes at their manners, but said nothing. 

Professor McGonagall looked down at them sternly, seeming much like herself. "Well, Potter, I hadn't expected to see you so soon, but Ms. Granger said you needed to come here."

"Yes, Professor," Harry replied. He felt a little uneasy. McGonagall didn't know about the Horcruxes so he couldn't exactly tell her why he was there.

"I don't suppose you know how long you're staying?" McGonagall, it seemed, knew what Harry was thinking and was avoiding the subject of his visit.

"Not really," Harry said. He had no idea how long it might take to find a Horcrux, or if one was even at the school. It was just a hunch at best.

"In that case, I'd recommend you take lodging in your old dormitories while you are here. As you are not students, you will not attend classes, but it would be best to stay safely together at all times and try not to wander about. Though the rules don't technically apply to you," her mouth thinned as though it shouldn't matter whether or not they were students, "the curfew is still ten o'clock for the older students. If Mr. Filch catches you out past then, he may choose to punish you."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged a glance at that. They didn't look forward to meeting Filch in the dead of night.

"Of course, Professor," Hermione replied swiftly when Ron and Harry said nothing.

While Hermione was talking, Harry's eyes wandered around the so familiar circular room. The portraits on the walls were wide awake today, all listening interestedly. Harry looked at the very last picture.

Dumbledore sat in his comfortable arm chair, his eyes twinkling as always as he watched the room. He saw Harry looking at him and gave him a small smile. Harry stared at him, a feeling of irrepressible sadness coming over him. Dumbledore seemed to know what was happening. He just smiled warmly, his blue eyes twinkling as he looked at Harry. It seemed to tell Harry that it wasn't as bad as he thought.

Finally, Harry forced himself to look away from the portrait. He realized that the conversation was coming to a close so he tuned in quickly.

"... doing fine in Quidditch. It's just been difficult to practice with all these confounded Ministry officials swarming the castle." Professor McGonagall pursed her lips together in a manner that clearly stated she thought it was unnecessary.

Hermione smiled warmly. After all, she was the only one who had seemed to connect with McGonagall. Soon, though, they were leaving the Head's office, going down the spiral staircase and out the doors guarded by gargoyle. 

They looked at each other for a second, knowing what they were getting into by going back to school. Harry had thought that he might never have to see the school again, the place that held so many memories, both good and bad.

Harry gave a resolute sigh and turned around, leading the familiar path to the Gryffindor dormitories. They climbed up the marble staircase and to the seventh floor.

Harry stopped as he neared the portrait of the fat lady, realizing that he had no clue what the password was.

The fat lady gave a loud squawk as she caught sight of them. "Why, you three!" she exclaimed. "I thought you weren't coming back!"

"Well..." Harry started to say, not knowing how to explain it.

"Actually, we're just here for a visit," Hermione supplied. "Twiddlebottom."

"What?" Harry asked, completely confused. His question was answered as the portrait swung forward to admit them.

They walked cautiously into the room, fearing what, or who, might await them. To their relief, the common room was entirely empty. It seemed that everyone was in class. Harry felt incredibly relieved as they went into the room.

It looked the same as always, not like Harry had expected it to change or something. The walls were hung with red and gold panels and the Gryffindor lion stood proudly on the flag hanging over the mantle.

Harry and Ron split from Hermione and went up the staircase to the boys' dormitory. Harry pushed open the door, expecting to find it completely empty but was scared out of his skin as a yell met his ears.

"Harry! Ron! You're back!"

Harry jumped in the air. He had been getting jumpier lately, always frightened at sudden noises. It must have been over-sensitivity from always being on his guard. He looked up to see Dean standing by his bed and grinning at them.

"Dean!" Ron said, surprised. "Are you the only one here?"

"Well, Neville's here somewhere, but other than that, yeah. Seamus' mum wouldn't let him come back." Dean looked a bit depressed at that piece of news. Harry knew they had been close during school.

"Oh," Harry said, having nothing else to say. There was an awkward silence for a moment.

"So..." Dean said finally. "Are you guys staying? McGonagall said you weren't coming back to school."

"We're staying for a little while. We, uh, have some things to do."

"Oh," Dean said, sounding disappointed once more. "So you're not going to school?"

"No," Harry replied. "We're just... visiting."

"Well, it'll be nice to have someone else here beside Neville for a little while at least."

Harry gave him a fleeting smile and moved over to his bed, pushing back the heavy curtains that were hanging around it. He caught sight of the bed, the dark red covers sitting perfectly made up.

:FLASH:

_"Come on, Harry," Draco teased, lying on his back on the bed, his pale skin contrasting sharply with the dark red color._

_Harry paused a second, noticing the color contrast. Draco finally just rolled his eyes and reached up, pulling Harry's head down and pressing his lips against Harry's. He pushed his tongue inside Harry's mouth, lapping at the hot cavern within. Harry groaned quietly and reached over, fumbling for the hangings and wrenching them shut, shutting out the room._

:FLASH:

Harry jerked back as Ron clapped a hand on his back. He hadn't realized he had spaced out while Ron and Dean had been having a conversation. He quickly deposited his bag on the bed and shut the hangings, setting a Locking Charm on the curtains.

He turned back to Ron and Dean, who were arguing, for the millionth time, about Dean's poster of the West Ham soccer team.

"But they don't even _move_!" Ron exclaimed, gesturing at the motionless players.

Dean rolled his eyes and scoffed. "They're not supposed to!"

Ron decided not to comment, but he continued to give the poster a suspicious look. He had never quite believed that Muggle pictures weren't supposed to move. 

They spent the next half hour catching up, though Ron and Harry kept certain things to themselves. It turned out that Dean wasn't upset that Harry and Ginny had dated. He was even sympathetic of their break-up, something Harry wondered about.

At one point, Ron left the room and Dean leaned in to Harry, looking around carefully. "There's actually another reason I'm glad Ginny and I broke up and you took her. See, I'm gay, but hardly anyone knows."

Harry simply stared at him for a moment. It had never occurred to him that Dean might be gay. He and Ginny had seemed to be happy when they had been together. Then again, so had he and Ginny and all that had been a lie, for the most part anyway.

"Oh, well, I guess it was a good thing," Harry said awkwardly.

Dean shrugged and smiled. "Yeah, just don't tell Ron, okay? I'm not sure he would like to know that I broke up with his sister because I liked blokes better."

Harry nodded, trying to ignore the knot that had formed in his stomach at Dean's words. He knew he would someday have to tell Ron about his relationship with Draco, especially if he actually managed to find Draco and save him. He was sure Ron wouldn't just accept him into the fold, not without an amazing explanation.

Ron reentered the room and the conversation turned to lighter matters, allowing Harry to think about what he was going to do.

Now that he was at Hogwarts, he needed to concentrate on his theory of the hidden Horcrux. He knew he couldn't just wander around the school looking for clues in order to find it. He had a hunch that it might be in the Room of Requirement, but the room tended to be very temperamental. He wondered if he could even manipulate the room to give him what he wanted.

Not to mention the fact that he didn't know which Horcrux might be concealed there. What if it wasn't the cup? What if it was something he hadn't discovered yet? How would he differentiate it from anything else in the room?

Harry knew that he had gotten himself into an endless battle of questions without answers by taking on this task. He knew, though, that it was something that had to be done. He was determined to find something within the castle, anything.

Just before dinner, Neville came into the room and let out a shriek. He ran to Harry and grabbed him 'round the middle in a tight hug. Harry was taken by shock and so did nothing to stop him.

Neville let go quickly, blushing furiously. "Harry! You're back! And you're alive!"

"Yes, I'm alive," Harry said carefully. "What did you think?"

"Well," Neville said, tracing a nervous circle on the ground with his toe, "there have just been a lot of attacks lately, people dying. I'm just glad you haven't died."

"Don't worry, Neville," Harry said consolingly. "I'm not doing any fighting at the moment, so I'm kind of safe." He knew he wasn't really safe, but Neville needed some reassurance at the moment. Harry knew it had to be hard, being stuck in the castle with no news save what the _Daily Prophet_ printed.

After that, they all went down to the common room where they met Hermione. It turned out she was the only one in her dorm. Neither Parvati nor Lavender had returned.

They all went down to dinner, discussing light subjects, no one going near the subject of why the trio had returned so suddenly.

Dinner was what Harry had expected. All the house tables stared and gawked at them as they walked by, sitting down quickly at the Gryffindor table and doing their best to ignore it.

They ate quickly, having no desire to stay where they were being regarded like freaks in a circus. Even Ron didn't seem as excited as usual by the food. They merely finished their meals quickly and left the Hall amidst whispers and pointing fingers.

They said nothing on the way back up to Gryffindor tower. Harry felt weird walking back to his dormitory. It was like he had never left. But this time, he had no comforting thought that Draco would slip in to visit him in the middle of the night.

Harry left Ron and went to take a shower after dinner, still feeling dirty from his trip in the fire. He grabbed a towel and shower supplies then went into the adjoining bathroom.

He kept his head bowed as he walked into the bathroom. He reached into the shower and turned on the water before stripping off his clothes and stepping under the stream of hot water.

He turned around in the shower, bowing his head back into the water. It flowed over his body, soaking his hair and glistening on his tanned body.

He kept his eyes closed as he simply stood under the hot water. He could feel it washing away his tension and soothing his body. He felt better already.

He opened his eyes and was met with the shocking white of the shower tile glaring in his face.

:FLASH:

_"Fuck, Draco, please move--" Harry panted. He was pressed up against the cool shower tiles as Draco stood behind him, his cock fully sheathed inside Harry's tight ass._

_Draco leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of Harry's ear. "You really want me to?" he whispered seductively._

_"Please," Harry whined, his breath coming in sharp gasps as Draco shifted, his cock sliding out slightly and back in. Harry was so close already; it was excruciating._

_"You beg so prettily," Draco mocked, flicking his tongue over Harry's ear and tugging the earlobe into his mouth using his teeth._

_Harry moaned wantonly. Draco's words combined with the pressure of his unfulfilled cock were driving him insane. He could tell Draco wanted to tease him, but he couldn't take much more of it._

_"Draco--" he gasped. "I-I love you, please."_

_Draco pressed a hot kiss to Harry's neck and placed his hands on Harry's hips, using them to steady himself as he slid his cock out of the slicked entrance, only to slam back in with an incredible force, ripping a cry from Harry's throat._  
  
:FLASH:

Harry's eyes shot open. They had drifted closed during that little memory but were now wide open and still staring at the white tile. He shook his head, willing himself to think about something else. It wouldn't do well to dwell on Draco while he ought to be concentrating on Horcruxes.

Harry forced himself to stop thinking about Draco and hastily finished his shower. He redressed quickly and went back into the dormitory. He found that Ron, Dean, and Neville were sitting on their respective beds, talking about school.

"My gran wanted me to come back," Neville said plainly. "She reckons it's as safe as anywhere now that Dumbledore..." He trailed off as he noticed Harry in the room.

"It's okay, Neville," he said quietly. He went over to his bed and threw his clothes in his bag then turned to them. "You can say it."

Neville did nothing of the sort. There was silence for a moment until Dean piped up. "My parents don't know much, but they think it's probably safer here too, you know, with lots of wizards and witches around. Safer than they could keep me, they guess."

"That's probably true," Ron agreed, glad that Harry hadn't been too upset by the mention of Dumbledore.

Harry didn't join in on the conversation, choosing to sit silently on his bed while it continued. Finally, he grew tired and announced that he was going to bed. The rest of them followed suit and climbed into their beds, pulling the curtains shut and falling asleep.

Harry didn't fall asleep. Instead, he sat cross-legged on his bed, debating what he wanted to do. The overwhelming urge to pull out the Pensieve came over him as it always did and he reached into his bag, taking it out and unshrinking it. He placed it in front of him on the bed, watching as its contents swirled as always.

He prodded the top like he always did and waited for the silvery liquid to stop spinning. He looked down at the top of it and saw the same scene he had seen for many weeks. It was the same room with the single student writing something at a desk while a teacher looked on.

Harry sighed, sitting back, disappointed. He had seen that room several times since he had gotten the Pensieve. He didn't know why the basin insisted on showing it to him. He looked back in the basin, as if hoping the image might have changed.

The boy was still there. Harry wished the Pensieve would stop showing him that same image. He sat back, listening to Neville's quiet snores fill the room beyond. He looked at his watch and realized that it was kind of early for going to bed.

He was tired but not incredibly so. The day had been long and stressful. Harry was eager to get a move on. He was glad to be back at the castle but also felt like it was a step backward.

Harry looked back into the basin, hoping it might explain something to him. After looking thoughtfully at the room inside the Pensieve for a few minutes, Harry came to a sudden decision.

He listened closely for a moment, as if to make sure everyone was indeed asleep, before taking a deep breath and plunging headfirst into the Pensieve, falling through nothing until his feet hit solid ground and he looked up.

 

~~**~~

A/N: Yes, I do realize the 7th book is out now, and yes, I will continue to post this and finish it up. You should know I wrote it completely before the 7th books came out so any similarities are merely coincidences :) Please review!


	20. A Black Memory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After Dumbledore's death and Draco's disappearance, Harry knows what he has to do. He must find and save his boyfriend while concealing the relationship, destroy the Horcruxes that will ultimately destroy Voldemort, and deal with his grief. With Ron and Hermione by his side, he may just have a chance. ~Sequel to Falling Away with You~

  
Author's notes: After Dumbledore's death and Draco's disappearance, Harry knows what he has to do. He must find and save his boyfriend while concealing the relationship, destroy the Horcruxes that will ultimately destroy Voldemort, and deal with his grief. With Ron and Hermione by his side, he may just have a chance. ~Sequel to Falling Away with You~  


* * *

*

Harry looked around the room, noticing that it was the old Transfiguration classroom. The teacher sitting at the desk was paying little attention to the student. Harry didn't recognize the teacher but could tell it wasn't a present day memory.

He looked to the student now and his mouth fell open. The boy had shaggy black hair and a ruggedly handsome face. Up close, Harry could see that he was only pretending to do the work the professor had assigned. Instead, there was a small mirror in his lap and he was sending messages through it.

Harry moved closer to where the young Sirius sat, hoping to be able to look in the mirror and see who it was he was sending the messages to. But the mirror was blank. That must mean it was not Sirius' memory.

It seemed not to be the professor's memory either, since she was not looking up from her desk, and, therefore, could not have seen what Sirius was doing.

Harry looked around, wondering whose memory it could be if it was neither of the two people in the room. It wasn't until Sirius looked up sharply and hastily stowed the mirror away that Harry noticed a third presence in the room.

A small house-elf was standing by the door to the classroom. The house-elf was short and his ears flopped over as he shuffled to the professor's desk. Harry reluctantly left Sirius' side and moved closer to the house-elf.

The elf shuffled closer to the professor and squeaked, quite clearly, "Professor Mistle, miss, Headmaster Dumbledore is wanting to see you."

The professor rose from her chair tiredly and looked over at Sirius, who had an innocent look on his face. Harry noticed that the mirror was no longer in sight.

"Alright, Mr. Black, you are free to go, but let's remember next time that it is inappropriate to be doing _that_ in a closet, shall we?"

Sirius nodded, trying to keep from grinning. The professor just shook her head and strode out the room. The house-elf remained behind, watching as Sirius packed up his things, sending one last message through the mirror. 

He turned to the elf. "Thanks, Fitzy," he said casually, grinning at the elf. To Harry's surprise, the elf bowed low and followed Sirius out of the classroom.

Harry hurried along behind them, wondering how Sirius was on such good terms with a house-elf when he despised Kreacher so much. He followed them down a few corridors and behind some tapestries until they reached the seventh floor.

Harry wondered how far the house-elf was going to follow Sirius. They turned down a corner and Harry stopped dead in his tracks, staring down the corridor as someone strode toward them.

Sirius and the house-elf stopped too, watching the stranger near them. Sirius studied the man carefully as he came to a stop in front of him. The man had dark, black hair, slit-like eyes and pale skin. Harry couldn't believe Voldemort was in the castle, just walking around it.

"Who are you?" Sirius asked without preamble, looking at Voldemort suspiciously.

Voldemort took a moment to look Sirius up and down, as though gauging his strength and worth. "I'm Lord Voldemort."

"What are you doing here? You're too old to be a student." Sirius, it seemed, didn't like the look of the man.

"I've come to inquire after a job to the Headmaster," Voldemort replied, his voice getting colder. He didn't like Sirius' questions.

Sirius looked suspicious as he watched Voldemort. "Why are you wandering around the castle, then?"

"I was merely taking in my old haunts," he replied vaguely. Harry thought this was odd. If anything, Voldemort would want to see the dungeons, not the seventh floor.

"I don't think Dumbledore would approve," Sirius said coldly. "Maybe you should leave."

Voldemort paused and Harry could tell he was contemplating what he should do in that situation. "Alright. It was a pleasure meeting you," he said at last, turning and walking down the hallway in the opposite direction.

"Likewise," Sirius muttered under his breath. Then he bent down and whispered to the elf. "Keep an eye on him, Fitz."

The house-elf nodded fervidly, his large ears flapping against his head. Sirius walked off in the opposite direction and Fitzy turned and followed the path that Voldemort had taken.

Harry wanted to follow Sirius but he also wanted to know what Voldemort was up to. Knowing it would be useless to follow Sirius, he followed the house-elf down the corridor. Fitzy crept, nearly unseen, down the corridor until they came upon Voldemort once more.

He was stopped in front of a blank patch of wall across from the tapestry of the dancing trolls. The house-elf hid himself neatly behind a large vase in a corner, but Harry moved forward, knowing he couldn't be seen.

Voldemort was stopped, contemplating the wall. His hand was stowed inside his cloak, grasped around something Harry couldn't see. Harry moved further forward, hoping to see more. Voldemort looked around quickly, as though making absolutely sure that he was completely alone.

Then he turned back to the wall, his hand grasping whatever it was tightly inside his cloak. Harry saw his hand shift, as though clamping tighter over the object. He had an irrepressible feeling that there was a Horcrux in that pocket.

Voldemort looked around again then removed his hand from his cloak. Harry held his breath as Voldemort pulled out a long, thin box. It was made of a dark, rich wood and had a single sapphire placed in the top of the box.

Harry thought it looked very much like a wand box. Voldemort didn't open the box, but instead passed it over the blank stone. Immediately, a door appeared and Voldemort strode in.

Harry started forward, trying to follow Voldemort but was pushed back by an invisible force. He looked around and saw that Fitzy was still standing behind the vase, looking at the door suspiciously.

Harry cursed the elf for staying where he was but could do nothing about it. He saw the elf move out from behind the vase and turn and go back down the corridor, leaving Harry in a gathering white mist. He concentrated hard on leaving the memory and felt himself being lifted up until he was deposited on his bed once more.

He stared at the Pensieve for a moment as the darkness engulfed him as he sat on his bed, the curtains shut tightly around him. He just knew that had been a Horcrux Voldemort had had. It obviously wasn't the cup, so it must have been another of the Founder's objects.

Harry thought back to the memory and realized that Voldemort had been at Hogwarts to request a job. That had to have been the memory Harry had viewed with Dumbledore so many months ago. Voldemort had been at the school, and unknown to Dumbledore, been keeping his Horcrux with him. Dumbledore's theory had been wrong. He had thought that Voldemort had wanted the job to look for more objects while really it was only a pretense to get into the school.

Anger boiled in Harry as he thought that Voldemort had tricked Dumbledore into getting into the school only to hide his Horcrux. Dumbledore had been correct in guessing that Voldemort had an alternate reason for wanting to teach in the school and Harry was sure he had been right there. Voldemort had only wanted to gain followers. Harry could tell from the way he had been looking at Sirius, like he was sizing him up, deciding if he would be a good follower. Obviously, he had decided otherwise; Sirius was too loyal to Dumbledore already.

On the bright side, Harry was now sure that he had made the right decision in coming back to the school. The only problem now would be finding the Horcrux and destroying it. Harry knew the Room of Requirement tended to be temperamental at times.

He quickly shrunk the Pensieve and shoved it back in his bag. Then he pulled out his Invisibility Cloak, and as he did so, a piece of parchment fluttered out and onto his bed. He put aside the cloak for a second and looked at the parchment. He was surprised to find that it was the Marauder's Map. He had never taken it out of his bag when Hermione had returned it to him at the end of school.

Quietly, Harry unshrunk the cloak and slipped it on. He then unfolded the map and tapped it with his wand. The whole of Hogwarts appeared before him, spreading over the piece of parchment. He crept out of his bed and to the door.

He could hear the soft snores of the other boys and knew he was the only one awake. He took a close look at the map and saw that there was no one in the common room. He snuck down the stairs quietly, making sure to cover all of himself.

Out through the portrait hole and down the corridor Harry went. He kept the map close to him, checking it often to make sure he was truly alone.

When he reached the blank stone wall where he knew the Room of Requirement was, he paused, wondering how best to phrase what he wanted. He put the map in his pocket for a moment and began to pace up and down in front of the room.

_I need to find a Horcrux, I need to find a Horcrux, I need to find a Horcrux._ He turned back to the wall hopefully only to find that it remained stubbornly stone. He frowned.

He walked up to the wall and pushed on it fruitlessly, like it might give way if he did. He had known this would happen. It had happened all the last year when he had been obsessed with finding out what Draco had been up to.

Harry stared at the wall for a while, contemplating it. He knew he had to find the perfect wording or it would never let him in. He just couldn't imagine what those words could be.

_I need somewhere to hide my map,_ he thought suddenly. Maybe, if he could find the room where everything was hidden, he could find the Horcrux. _I need somewhere to hide my map, I need somewhere to hide my map._

He looked up to find that a door had appeared in the stone. His heart gave a leap and he pulled the door open. He found himself in the huge room filled to the ceiling with long-forgotten items that had been hidden.

As Harry moved into the room, lighting his wand, he wondered if maybe this wasn't what he wanted. After all, Voldemort hadn't even asked the room for anything; he had merely passed the box in front of the wall and it had granted him admission.

Harry ignored the thought for a moment, though, and walked cautiously into the room. There was an almost sinister air about the place. To his left and right were piles of books and glittering piles of hidden jewels. Harry thought that Voldemort wouldn't just have left his Horcrux out in the open, and it would have been nearly impossible to find it amongst the masses of junk piled in the room.

He walked down one of the paths, winding around old cabinets piled with books and other misplaced items. He came to the end of one aisle and found himself looking at the wardrobe in which he had hidden his Potion’s book. It seemed so long ago that he had been standing in front of that cupboard, his heart beating a mile a minute, scared to death of what awaited him in the bathroom.

Harry couldn't help himself and moved forward, pulling the door open. It creaked loudly and Harry winced at the sound, even though it was unlikely anyone would hear it. He peered into the dark shelves of the cupboard, catching sight of his book near the back.

He reached in and pulled it out slowly. In the back of his mind, he knew he shouldn't even be bothering with it, but he couldn't help wanting to see it once more. It was the book that had been his downfall as well as his savior. 

He opened it to the last page and saw, in Snape's small, cramped handwriting, "Property of the Half-Blood Prince." Harry looked at it for a moment, and then snapped it shut. He shoved the book far into the cabinet and slammed the door.

He turned away abruptly, staring out at the room. A Fanged Frisbee hovered listlessly over a pile of dusty robes. Harry looked around hopelessly, knowing that he had no chance of finding the Horcrux that night. He needed help in order to do this. He would have to wait for the morning and tell Ron and Hermione.

Reluctantly, he walked back to the door and out. As he stepped out, the door dissolved into stone once more. Harry walked slowly back to Gryffindor tower, climbing through the portrait hole and into his dormitory. He put the cloak and map away, and then settled into his bed, hoping that the next day would bring better luck.

***

The next day, Harry hurried Ron and Hermione through breakfast then forced them back to the common room where he told them all he had seen in the Pensieve and what he'd done the night before.

Hermione was shocked that he had already gone wandering around the school after being back one day. "Harry! You could've gotten caught!"

Ron was in awe that Harry had figured out so much. "Whoa, mate, I would never have thought of that."

Harry was disappointed with both of their reactions. He really needed their help to find the Horcrux now.

"Listen, guys," he told them seriously as they sat in front of the blazing fire. "We have to find a way to find the Horcrux. It's in the Room of Requirement somewhere. We just have to find it."

Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment, staring in the fire. "Do you think it's in that room where you were last night, really?" she asked.

"Well, it's our best bet," Harry said, shrugging. "I know there's a ton of stuff in there that no one knows about."

"But do you really think V-Voldemort--oh, Ron-- would hide something as valuable as a Horcrux with junk? I thought they were really important to him."

"They are! That’s why he doesn't just use junk. All his Horcruxes are important parts of his heritage and life."

"And do you know exactly what it was that he was putting in there?" Hermione asked carefully.

"It looked like a wand box. It was made of some kind of dark wood and had a sapphire gem on the top. I think it's Ravenclaw's. You know their colors are blue and bronze. It makes sense, doesn't it?"

"I suppose," she sad slowly. "But how are we supposed to find it, though? Even if it is somewhere inside that room with all the junk, how will we find it? It must be hidden and concealed with powerful magical spells and enchantments."

"We're just going to have to try our best to get in. Or word it differently so that maybe we don't have to go hunting through piles of books to find where he hid it. But I _know_ it's in there somewhere!"

In the end, all three agreed that the Horcrux was concealed somewhere within the Room of Requirement. Now, it was just how to find it.

They all made their way down to where the Room was located, and for the next few hours, paced up and down in front of it, each trying some way to get inside and find the Horcrux without having to go into the huge room.

By lunchtime, they were still unsuccessful, so they decided to take a break and went down to the Great Hall. They ate quickly and soon resumed their pacing.

Over the next few days, they tried fruitlessly to find the Horcrux within the Room of Requirement. Everyday after breakfast, they would retreat to the seventh floor corridor, pacing up and down in front of the blank wall.

After the third day of this pointless activity, Hermione simply sat down on the ground in front of the room, her head in resting on her hands as she stared, annoyed, at the wall. Ron and Harry stopped their pacing and looked at her.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked. He was beginning to become very exasperated at their lack of success. Once or twice they had attempted to get into the room where everything was hidden, but even that seemed closed to them. Harry supposed it was because the room knew they didn't need to hide anything and only wanted to search through it.

Harry and Ron looked down at Hermione, who sat stubbornly on the floor, glaring across the hall at the wall. They exchanged a glance but said nothing. Hermione usually had a good reason for everything she did.

"This isn't working," she said finally.

"No, really?" Harry asked sarcastically.

She gave him a scathing glance and shook her head. "I think we're going about this all wrong."

"How are we doing that?" Ron asked, confused.

"Well, Voldemort got into the room without even asking for anything. I suppose that could be because he's more powerful than us, but there might have been something else."

Harry looked at Ron again then sat down next to Hermione. "Like what?"

"You said he just waved the box in front if it and it opened?"

"Yeah," Harry said. "So?"

"So... maybe if that box, or what was in it, really belonged to one of the Founders, it had some kind of special quality to it."

"You mean it could get past the Room's wards and let him in?"

"Precisely," Hermione said, now getting to her feet and walking closer to the door, pressing her hand against it and listening closely. "The Founder's must have created the room, so they had power over it."

"So if we had another Founder's possession, we might be able to get in?" Harry asked hopefully. Even Ron seemed to understand now as he watched the two of them converse.

"Do you think the Room can be manipulated by a person with a Founder's object?" Ron asked. "You know, like make it anything they want?"

"That's a possibility," Hermione said slowly. "But we won't find out unless we have a Founder's possession, which we don't." She frowned as she contemplated the wall.

"Wait a minute," Harry said slowly. "We do."

Hermione looked at him sharply. "What do you mean?"

"In Dumbledo--McGonagall's office," Harry corrected himself quickly, "Gryffindor's sword is there. It's in the glass case behind the desk!"

Hermione's eyes widened as Harry told them this. "Do you think we can get it?"

"We'd have to ask McGonagall, and we can't tell her what we need it for," Harry said quietly. "Maybe you could ask, Hermione."

"Why me?" she asked indignantly.

"Because she likes you and she'll give you anything," Harry said simply.

Hermione scowled at him. "Fine, but I'm not doing this because she likes me. I'm doing it for you, Harry."

Harry nodded and all three of them took off for McGonagall's office. They reached the stone gargoyle and Hermione gave the password. They went up the spiral staircase and knocked on the large door.

McGonagall bid them to enter and they walked inside. She was sitting behind her desk, looking stern as always. She nodded at them as they entered and stood awkwardly in front of her.

Harry looked behind her to where Godric Gryffindor's sword sat glittering in the case above her desk. The rubies glimmered in the light from the window, bouncing around the room.

"Professor McGonagall," Hermione started slowly. "We were wondering if we could borrow something."

"Borrow something?" McGonagall asked carefully. "What do you want?"

"Actually... we'd like to borrow that sword," Hermione said, pointing behind her.

To the side, the portraits let out noises of disagreement. They obviously didn't think students should be allowed to borrow Founder relics. McGonagall looked to the sword and back to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. They stood nervously, hoping she would grant them their request without too many questions.

Harry glanced at the portraits, many of whom were shaking their heads and muttering under their breath. He looked to the end where Dumbledore’s portrait sat. Harry could have sworn the portrait winked at him. He pulled his gaze away, though, and looked back to McGonagall.

"You want the sword?" she asked, surprised. "But why?"

"I can't tell you that," Harry said softly.

McGonagall looked at him closely for a moment then stood up and unlatched the case. She reached in and took out the sword carefully, placing it on her desk. She looked at all three of them once more.

"Alright, Potter, but you better bring it back just as you found it."

"I'll try," Harry muttered, reaching over and picking up the sword. "Thank you, Professor."

Professor McGonagall nodded while still regarding them suspiciously. They thanked her once more and left the room, Harry holding tightly to the ruby-encrusted hilt of the sword.

He could feel his heartbeat increasing as they walked back to the Room of Requirement. Harry stood before the blank wall, Ron and Hermione on either side of him. On his wrist, the tiny snake hissed quietly, the sound heartening him.

He took a deep breath and raised the sword, waving it over the entrance. He stared, wide-eyed, as a door appeared just where he had put the sword. He glanced at Ron and Hermione then steeled himself and opened the door, walking in, Ron and Hermione behind him.

 

~~**~~  
 _  
A/N: Since the 7th book has been released, this is officially AU. Also, I must once again point out that I wrote this long before the actual book came out so any similarities from here on out (and before really) are mere coincidences. If anyone accuses me of stealing from the book, I'm afraid I shall have to throw something at you for not reading my Author notes :) Anyway, please review!_


	21. The Second Horcrux

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After Dumbledore's death and Draco's disappearance, Harry knows what he has to do. He must find and save his boyfriend while concealing the relationship, destroy the Horcruxes that will ultimately destroy Voldemort, and deal with his grief. With Ron and Hermione by his side, he may just have a chance. ~Sequel to Falling Away with You~

  
Author's notes: After Dumbledore's death and Draco's disappearance, Harry knows what he has to do. He must find and save his boyfriend while concealing the relationship, destroy the Horcruxes that will ultimately destroy Voldemort, and deal with his grief. With Ron and Hermione by his side, he may just have a chance. ~Sequel to Falling Away with You~  


* * *

*

Harry stared around him in wonder as they entered the room. It was a rather large room with several fireplaces and couches set inside it. Side tables were draped with different colored silks: red, yellow, blue, and green.

A different throw was hung over the back of each couch (there were four, each facing their own fireplace). On the throws were each respective Founder's symbol: the lion, badger, eagle, and snake. 

Harry moved forward into the room, setting the sword down on the couch with the lion draped over the back. Ron and Hermione followed him cautiously, each looking around the room in wonder. Harry had never imagined it might be like this. He thought that this room probably hadn't been entered in a very long time.

"What do you think this is?" Ron asked quietly behind Harry as they moved into the middle of the room. Harry was still looking around, noticing that there were no other doors leading off the main room. 

"I think it's like a lounge," Hermione whispered, keeping her voice low like someone might be listening in.

Harry said nothing, walking slowly over to one of the couches and running his hand over the back of it. It was Hufflepuff's couch, complete with badger throw and yellow silk table covering. He turned back to Ron and Hermione, who were cautiously taking in their surroundings like they thought something might jump out at them at any moment.

"Do you think it's here?" Harry asked the other two.

Hermione stopped peering over one of the couches and looked at Harry. "I don't know," she said slowly. "This is definitely an amazing room. Probably designed by the Founders themselves for their own personal use."

"You mean you've never read anything about this?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Of course not," she said dismissively. "They don't even mention the Room of Requirement in _Hogwarts, A History_."

Harry was slightly disappointed that Hermione couldn't tell him all he wanted to know for once. Usually, she had a plethora of information and you couldn't get her to stop. And now, the one time he needed information, she had none.

Harry turned back to the couch and walked around in front of it. He was wary of sitting down on the couch for fear of what might happen if the room discovered they weren't Founders. Then again, he didn't suppose the room could tell since it had already let them in.

He looked over to where he had laid Gryffindor's sword and watched as the rubies glittered in the firelight. His eyes were drawn to the fire. He supposed the fires must have sprung into life when they had entered the room. They couldn't always be running.

As he watched the flickering flames, he was mesmerized by the way they danced in the grate, twisting and curling upwards. He began to feel tired as the warmth of the fire washed over him. He stood motionless as he watched the flames licking the grate.

It wasn't until he felt a hand on his back that he snapped out of it. He looked sharply to his left and saw Hermione looking at him carefully. "Are you alright?" she asked.

"I think so..." he said slowly, glancing back at the fire that was still crackling merrily in the grate. "Do you think... maybe the Horcrux is here, in this room?"

"In this room," Hermione repeated slowly. "But where? There’s not much place to hide it."

"But Voldemort doesn't need a place. He can create a place; that's not a problem. But this is the perfect place to hide a Horcrux," Harry said, gaining momentum. "It's exactly what he would have wanted. It's got all the four Founders together in one place; it's perfect!"

"But _where_ is it?" Hermione pressed.

"We have to find it," Harry said. "It's in here somewhere. I know it is."

Harry's gaze traveled around the room, knowing it was there. There wasn't much in the room besides the couches and side tables. He knew it didn't matter how much was in the room; Voldemort could protect his Horcruxes with anything.

He moved around the room, walking carefully and doing his best to try to sense magic as Dumbledore used to. He knew he wasn't very good at it, but he had an inkling as to how it was done. He thought that any place that felt like it was magically padded would feel a little less natural.

He walked around the entire room without finding a thing. Ron and Hermione were poking around carefully as though expecting to find a bomb somewhere. Finally, Harry came back to Hufflepuff's couch and stopped, puzzled.

He bit his lip as he thought, looking around the room. Everything in the room was exactly identical save the colors. Harry wiped his forehead, noticing that the room was unnaturally warm. He turned to the fireplace, wondering if there was anyway to put it out.

As he looked at the fireplace, a sudden thought crossed his mind. "Wait a minute," he said quietly, turning and looking at each fireplace. In each grate, the fire was burning brightly, filling the room with light and warmth. It didn't seem right that every fireplace would be lit when a Founder came in the room. If anything, only that Founder's fireplace should be lit.

"What?" Ron asked, hearing what Harry said.

"The fireplaces," Harry said suddenly.

"What about them?" Ron asked.

"They're all on."

"So?"

Hermione now looked over at them, her eyebrows furrowed as she listened. She walked across the room as they continued talking, taking out her wand as she did so. She came to a stop in back of Ravenclaw's couch.

"So why would all the fireplaces come on when one person entered a room?" Harry asked. "It has to be magical since house-elves don't tend this room. Doesn't it seem a bit suspicious?"

Ron looked puzzled as he absorbed Harry's words. All of a sudden, there was a surprised shriek and they turned to see Hermione diving down behind the couch as a puff of fire flew over the back of it and dissolved into nothingness.

"Hermione, what happened?!" Harry asked, worried, hurrying over to where she was crouched down behind the couch. She stood up slowly, peering over the couch carefully to where the fireplace still flickered innocently.

"I think I've found it, Harry," she said in a semi-amused voice.

They all turned to look at the fire that crackled lightly in its grate, not appearing as if it had thrown itself just moments before.

"What did you do?" Harry asked, wondering what could make a fire throw itself.

"Well, I got your idea, so I thought I'd test it. I tried to put out the fire, with water, you know, and... obviously, it didn't work." 

They all stared at the fire for a moment in shock and awe. "It's there?" Harry asked slowly.

"I'm pretty sure," Hermione replied, standing up fully but staying away from the fire.

"It's in the fire," Harry stated dubiously. "Wouldn't it burn?"

"That's the ingenious part, Harry," Hermione said. "It _would_ burn, so no one would think to look in the fire, but it's easy enough to put a Fire-proof Charm on something."

"Okay, so it's there. How do we get it out?" 

"That's going to be a little more difficult," Hermione said slowly. 

If they couldn't put it out with water, and it was unlikely that they could simply reach in and get it, how were they supposed to get the Horcrux out from the flames? Obviously, this had been Voldemort's plan. Even if they tried to get through the fire, most likely it would shoot flames at them and they would catch fire.

All three of them contemplated the fire for quite a while after that. This was their first real test to see if they could actually make it. They had to get this Horcrux out of the fire and destroy it somehow. 

"Are you sure there isn't some way of putting it out?" Harry asked finally. "Voldemort must have made a way to get in case he had to, didn't he?"

"Well, he probably has some control over his own spells," Hermione said carefully. "It just means he probably wouldn't have any problem getting the Horcrux back."

Harry frowned at that answer. He'd been hoping that maybe she had an idea of how Voldemort would have done it, but if he had control over his spells, it would be simple to get to his Horcruxes.

Harry took out his wand finally and set down his bag that he always carried with him nowadays to the side. He conjured an ice cube in his hand and tossed it at the fire experimentally. The fire merely spit angrily as the ice hit it and bounced off.

"I think you made it angry, mate," Ron commented.

Harry scoffed and rolled his eyes. "I just wanted to see."

Harry took up his wand and pointed it at the fire for a moment. He then waved it, performing a simple Flame Freezing Charm. The fire's only response was to shoot a jet of flame past his head, singeing his hair.

"I guess that doesn't work either..." he muttered and Ron shook his head.

Hermione had been watching in mild interest, but her thoughts were elsewhere. "Do you see a pattern?" she asked suddenly.

"What?" Harry asked, turning to her. She was gazing thoughtfully at the fire.

"A pattern. All his Horcruxes, or the ones we've seen, have been guarded by a fear."

"A fear?"

"Yes, first it was darkness. Many people are afraid of the dark. Now, it's fire. A lot of people fear fire. Voldemort is playing on people's fears with his Horcruxes. He doesn't believe they can be conquered. He believes humans are too weak to conquer mortal fears. I think that he's actually afraid of these things deep down, just as he fears love."

Harry just stared at Hermione as she talked.

"He doesn't understand love, that's what Dumbledore's said, right? He doesn't know what it is or how to accept it. That's what these fears are. He doesn't accept his fears; he rejects them and uses them against other people. He's using his own fear to try to scare us."

"Well, it's working," Harry muttered, staring at the flames that remained stubbornly twisting upwards.

Hermione gave him a withering look. "No, it's not. We just have to be smarter than someone who hasn't conquered his fear."

"And how do we do that?" Harry asked flatly. He wasn't exactly feeling inspired to come up with a way to magically reach into the fire and pull out a box.

"Well, if you're scared of fire, you avoid it at all costs. You don't touch it, go near it, anything. We're already near it. I wonder what would happen if we just _tried_ to touch it."

Harry and Ron both gave her incredulous looks as she finished her thought.

"Be my guest," Harry said, indicating the fire.

It was then that Hermione looked a little uneasy about sticking her hand into a very hot fireplace. Around them, all the other fireplaces still crackled and spit out heat. Harry thought that if they stayed in there for much longer, he would die of a heat stroke.

"I don't think..." Hermione said slowly.

"See," Harry pointed out. "This is exactly what Voldemort is counting on; that people are too scared to even try."

"Well, why don't you do it, then?!" Hermione asked, clearly annoyed.

"Because I don't want to get burned!" Harry exclaimed and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Exactly! This is going to get us nowhere. There was a reason V-Voldemort put his Horcrux into fire. It's just about the only thing people won't touch without desperately wanting whatever it is."

"Well, I desperately want that Horcrux," Harry said, pushing up the sleeve of his tee shirt and putting aside his wand.

"Harry, no!" Hermione cried, reaching out and grabbing his hand back at the last second. He sighed and pulled his hand away and reached forward again, but instead of reaching into the blazing hot fire, Harry's hand hit an invisible barrier.

"What?" he asked, pressing his hand against the fire. It was just centimeters from touching the flames but it wouldn't let him go any further. "It's like a wall!"

"Well, that's stupid," Ron said all of a sudden. "If You Know Who wanted people to get burned trying to touch it, he would just let them! Why bother even stopping them? There's no way for anyone to get it now!"

They all felt incredibly discouraged as they watched the flames swirling innocently in the grate. Harry pulled his hand back, wishing he knew something better to do, or that Dumbledore was there to help him. 

He had known it would be difficult to get a Horcrux but he hadn't thought that the most difficult part would be figuring out how to do it. It seemed so simple, put out the fire, pull out the box and that's it. But no, they couldn't put out the fire; they had no way of reaching into it, even if they didn't care whether their hands were burned to a crisp in the process.

Harry just wished there was some sort of magical solution, which, in most cases in the wizarding world, was entirely possible; he just hadn't thought of it yet.

He sighed and looked at his wand that he put on the ground when he had been preparing to reach into the fire. It had rolled a little ways away and was now resting by his bag. Harry looked at it for a second then reached out and grabbed his bag.

His intention was to see if there was anything in there that might help him in the least bit possible. Anything to help would be appreciated at that moment. He opened it and dug around inside for a moment, pushing his Invisibility Cloak aside along with the Pensieve.

It wasn't until he came to the bottom of the bag that he saw something that could change everything. He grew excited as he rummaged more forcefully to the bottom and came out with a pair of white gloves; the gloves Fred and George had given him for his birthday.

"What's that?" Hermione asked interestedly as Harry pulled them on his hands excitedly.

"Fred and George gave them to me. They really work!" he exclaimed.

"But what do they do?" Hermione asked, confused.

"Just watch," he breathed. Ron looked apprehensive for a moment as Harry reached out slowly with his hand.

It reached the point where the barrier had stopped him before. Harry could feel the magic pressing against his hand as he pressed through the barrier. Hermione gave an audible gasp beside him as he hand went further past the barrier and disappeared into the fire.

He expected the fire to singe his arms, to burn them viciously, but it merely felt like a gentle tickling around his hand and arm. He pushed in further, holding his breath as he did so.

He felt his hand meet the back of the fireplace then moved it down, feeling around the bottom of the fireplace. Then he felt it: a long, thin box placed in the very back of the fireplace. He grasped it tightly, his heart beating so fast he was afraid it might burst his chest.

He swallowed carefully and lifted the box from the ground, waiting for something to happen. Nothing did, though, and he pulled the box slowly out of the flames and through the barrier that snapped shut behind it.

He let out a breath as he stared at the box. He couldn't believe it had worked; he had gotten it.

He was brought from his marvels as he heard a shriek followed by a loud yell. He looked up, only to jerk his head back as a ball of fire shot past his head. The fire seemed to have sensed that its treasure was gone.

Balls and jets of fire were issuing from the fire like bombs, exploding out of the grate. Harry hastily scrambled to his feet, narrowly missing getting hit by a particularly large ball of fire. He scooped up his bag and wand, shoving the box into his bag.

Amidst all the screams and jets of flame, Harry managed to stumble over to Gryffindor's couch and seize the sword. As he bent over the couch, he felt a ball of fire slam into his leg.

"Ow!" he yelled. He reached down, frantically hitting his leg with his hand, completely forgetting his wand.

"Harry, come on!" He heard a panicked yell from somewhere near to door so he turned and made a rush for the door, trying to avoid all the jets of fire that shot past, singeing his hair and leaving smoke streaks on his face and clothes.

He finally made it to the door where Ron and Hermione were frantically gesturing him forward while narrowly avoiding balls of fire that aimed for their faces. Hermione's hair was smoking slightly and there was a singed hole on the sleeve of her shirt.

Together, they wrenched open the door, barely whipping through when a huge ball of fire pelted toward the door. They slammed it shut behind them, leaning against it and breathing hard. For a second, they could hear the angry fire hitting the door and then all was silent.

Harry turned to the other two, who both looked scared to death and pale as ghosts. Each of them was worse for the wear with streaks of smoke, burn marks, and smoking holes in their clothes.

"Well," he said finally. "We got it."

 

~~**~~

A/N: Please review!


	22. The Hollow

*

"Zabini, you have been gone quite some time, several days longer than anticipated. What have you found?"

Blaise stood tall in the semi-dark room lit by only a few torches. Voldemort stood before him, his flat face cast into shadow by the flickering torches. Blaise's eyes gleamed from under his heavy cloak as he fearlessly faced his lord. From under the robes, he unsheathed a single piece of paper.

"My lord, it is a list that Corner had in his possession. After his death, it took some time to locate it. That is why I am late," Blaise said swiftly, offering the paper to Voldemort.

Voldemort grabbed the paper and read it through quickly. His slit-like eyes grew even narrower as he read further down the list. He looked up at Blaise, his eyes burning crimson.

"This is what you retrieved?" he asked in a dangerously cold voice. "This is what Corner had?"

"Yes, my lord," Blaise answered promptly, showing no sign of fear in the presence of an agitated Dark Lord. "It is what I found after I killed him. It was difficult to get it without arousing suspicions amongst other people. His death was in the news after all."

"Yes," Voldemort murmured to himself. "Those fools can't let any deaths go quietly."

"Did I get what you asked for?" Blaise asked, watching Voldemort almost avidly.

"You have done well. Far better than I had presumed for such a young follower." Blaise smirked proudly as Voldemort went on, "These will have to be punished, tortured, perhaps, maybe more." Voldemort's eyes glittered maliciously as he talked of punishment.

Blaise was sure it wouldn't end with punishment. He knew many of the names on the list would lose their lives in the days to come. He had no problem with it. It didn't affect him. He had his missions, which he did well and without complaint. The Dark Lord had no visible reason to punish him. Blaise was only concerned with himself. He had little care for the fate of his fellow Death Eaters.

"My lord, is that all?" Blaise asked finally when he showed no signs of continuing.

Voldemort looked closely at Blaise for a moment as though measuring his worth. "Yes, go back to your post."

Blaise nodded and was about to Apparate out when Voldemort spoke again. "You haven't seen our dear Draco at all, have you?"

"No, my lord," Blaise replied simply. Without another word, he Disapparated.

Voldemort's expression was murderous as he sat down in his chair. No one had been able to find Draco since his escape. They hadn't even managed to track Potter successfully. None of their Tracking Spells were working any more. Voldemort guessed that Potter had finally gotten a few brains and learned a Cloaking Spell. 

He sneered, his mouth curling disdainfully as he thought of his inept followers, incapable of doing a simple task such as keeping watch over a prisoner and finding a boy.

He looked down at the list in his hand, reading the sub-heading under the Order of the Phoenix heading. It read, "Death Eater Double-agents," followed by a list of names. Voldemort skimmed down the list and his red eyes sparkled maliciously as he thought that he had some cleaning to do.

***

Draco dared not leave his tree hollow. He knew that Voldemort had people out looking for him. He knew his father was looking for him. That was, perhaps, the worst person he could have possibly sent after Draco. 

Lucius was ruthless when it came to his commitment to the Dark Lord. Though he had seemingly renounced his ways while Voldemort had disappeared, he had always practiced the Dark Arts in his own home, teaching them to Draco at a young age as well. He had always hoped that Draco would one day take over his position at Voldemort's side.

Draco had thought that he had wanted to become that some time ago. He had wanted to learn the ways of the Dark Lord, become a trusted servant, and do his evil deeds. Since he had been with Harry, though, Draco had realized there was more to life than power. Harry had shown him that power was merely a crutch which people used because they were truly afraid of feeling real things.

Sitting inside the tree trunk, feeling like the world's biggest coward, Draco knew he couldn't stay there. Though the world was unsafe and full of perils, he knew the only way he might survive and find Harry was to venture out and look.

The thought of willingly leaving the safety of the tree was gut-wrenching to Draco. He could only imagine what awaited him beyond the thick walls of the tree trunk. He felt like a bloody coward for doing nothing, but then, he had never been a Gryffindor.

Draco looked over to his side where his bag sat. He had been spending most of his days reading while he had tried desperately to figure out a way to find Harry. He had used his wand to Conjure food and had occupied his time looking up and mastering new spells. He supposed he had better be prepared in case anyone came upon him and tried to duel.

He was very adept at silent spells so it would be quite easy to catch someone unawares. Draco spent a lot of his time practicing spells that would protect himself. He was already accomplished at Protection Spells. He had used one on the bracelet he had given to Harry just days before Dumbledore's death.

Draco sighed, thinking back to that night. He hadn't wanted to do it and had promised Harry he wouldn't. Though he rarely made promises to people, those he did make, he kept. Harry was the only one he would have done that for.

For the past week, Draco had remained hidden in his tree trunk, wondering if Blaise had given away his location. But everyday, no one came and blasted apart the tree, so he assumed he was safe.

He knew Blaise too well to trust him very much. Blaise never did anything for anyone but himself. If he was helping Draco, it was because he saw something in it for him. Draco knew Blaise had an alternate reason for helping him as he was. He also knew that Blaise would drop his plan as soon as something better arose.

Draco groaned, knowing he was simply wasting his time by sitting in the tree. He had to get out of there and _do_ something. He looked around him, knowing that he would find no comfort in his tiny living space.

He reached over and grabbed his bag, shoving anything he might have taken out of it back in. He had several pieces of parchment on which he'd been drawing up lists to try and help him figure out where Harry might be. He shoved them in and got to his knees, facing the front of the tree trunk.

He took out his wand and pointed it at the entrance to the tree. Slowly, the bark peeled away to reveal a small opening. It was through this opening that he crawled, taking extreme care to listen and watch for any sign of noise or person.

He crawled out carefully, keeping a close watch. The brush around the tree had grown higher than he remembered as he crept through the thick underbrush. About a foot from the entrance to the tree, Draco's hand pressed into a soft spot in the ground. 

All the rest of the ground was hard as a rock except this tiny spot, about the size of a silver Sickle. Draco stopped, looking at the spot suspiciously. He glanced around quickly and bent down closer. In the imprint of dirt, he saw a miniscule B, Blaise's symbol.

Draco knew that hardly anyone knew of this. It was something that only he and Blaise had shared while they had been growing up. Each of them had created a unique symbol for themselves. Draco's was three wands crossed to make a D with a tiny star in the middle. Blaise's was an ornate B; the cursive was so curled it was almost impossible to tell what it was save by someone who knew.

Draco knew Blaise had left this, for him, he wasn't sure. He pressed his finger into the soft dirt and watched as it fell away. He reached into a hole about the size of a Sickle and depth of an inch. Inside was a piece of Muggle paper, folded many times and scrunched into the hole.

With some difficulty, Draco pried the paper from its hole. Draco knew it hadn't been removed since it had been placed there, a hopeful thought. Once he got it out, he looked around surreptitiously as though he might be being watched. He felt extremely vulnerable sitting out there in the open. Really, he was hardly in the open. The undergrowth curled up around him, growing over his head as he sat, crouched on the ground.

It would have been quite difficult for anyone to see anything in the thickness of the brush. Draco's clothes, though Muggle, matched the landscape quite well and he seemed to blend in.

Draco curled up into a tighter ball and carefully opened the paper, hoping to find some kind of note. Instead, he found himself looking at a piece of official-looking paper. It was a list bearing the Order of the Phoenix' crest.

As he read down it, his expression became more incredulous. Every name on this list of supposed double-agents was someone Draco had believed to be faithful to the Dark Lord.

_I guess nothing is certain in war,_ Draco thought, reading through the paper once more.

He had read through the paper three times, each time thinking it more and more likely that these people might be passing information to the other side, when he finally noticed a miniscule mark near the bottom right corner.

It was so small that he had taken it as a speck of dirt before, but now that he looked at it closer, he saw that it was the ornate B, so curly and scripted in its tiny state that it appeared no more than a black spot.

Draco looked around once more, listening hard. When he was sure that he was indeed alone, he lifted his wand and tapped the paper, whispering, "Montre-moi ton secret." The paper shivered for a moment and, before Draco's eyes, the ink sunk into the paper then reappeared moments later.

It looked the same except that all the names had changed. The list of double-agents had shortened and was more of the sort Draco had supposed to be the type to betray the Dark Lord. Among those listed were Remus Lupin, the werewolf, a few of the Ministry workers, and a few former students that Draco recognized.

He stared at the list, wondering about it. If this was the true list, then why had it been altered? He knew the Dark Lord would kill for this list, or really, he would kill those on that list.

Comprehension dawned suddenly on Draco as he read the names again. Blaise had changed the list. Somehow, he had gotten this list, probably his mission, Draco thought, and then had altered it to reflect names the Dark Lord wouldn't really question.

The names that had been on the list before were questionable people. Draco could see the Dark Lord believing that they were double-agents. Some of them certainly were suspicious enough.

Draco noticed that Blaise wasn't on the list, despite the fact that he was seemingly helping the light side. Then Draco realized that he wasn't truly helping the light side, he was helping himself. By manipulating and scheming his way through his missions, Blaise was able to help himself. He knew that the war was not a good idea, and, though he had chosen to join Voldemort's side, he was really on no one's side. He used the materials he had to his advantage by turning the Dark Lord against his own followers, helping his prisoners, and lying like a God.

Though Draco knew Blaise was only doing this to help himself, he thanked his lucky stars that Blaise’s reasons happened to help him as well. Normally, Draco refused to accept help, but Blaise seemingly wasn’t helping him, so it was easier.

As Draco looked at the list, he knew that those on it were incredibly lucky, though they had no idea. He knew Blaise had saved a few lives by changing the names on that list. 

Draco held up the list and set his wand to the corner, setting the parchment on fire and Vanishing the remains of the ashes. He reached into his bag and pulled out his Invisibility Cloak, throwing it over himself and feeling better already.

He stood up from the brush, finally able to stretch his legs after a week of sitting scrunched in a tree trunk with only a few feet above his head. It had been almost as bad as being in the prison with that infernal snake.

Draco threw on his bag over his shoulders and glanced around one last time, making sure he was absolutely alone. Once he was sure, he concentrated hard and was gone in a Pop, leaving only the heavy mist of the forest behind.

 

~~**~~

A/N: Another chapter! :) Woohoo, we are so getting somewhere now. Sorry, I think this song is making me oddly happy. I should find out the title of it. New song by Angels and Airwaves, Everything's Magic, I think? :) Please review!


	23. The Fourth

*

 

Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked slowly back through the halls of the school, making their way to Professor McGonagall's office. They ignored the incredulous looks they received as they trudged through the corridors, their clothes singed and holding a glittering sword.

Harry felt wary of so many people watching so he hurried the other two along, stopping only to give the password up to the office. They stepped onto the revolving staircase and were brought to the top where they knocked on the heavy wooden door.

They were allowed entrance and they stepped in, immediately greeted by a gasp and more staring.

"Potter, what happened to you?!" Professor McGonagall stood up quickly, her voice incredulous.

"... Nothing," Harry said vaguely, knowing she wouldn't accept that answer.

He was right and they watched as her eyes gave a steely glint as she looked at them. Her gaze lingered over their singed clothes, and the still-smoking sleeve of Hermione's shirt.

"Nothing? Potter, you look like you've just beaten your way out of a fire!"

"You have no idea," Harry muttered under his breath. "I'm sorry, Professor, I just can't tell you."

"Listen here, Potter," she said sternly, shaking a finger in his direction. "I don't know what Dumbledore did to you, but you'd think you’d have enough sense to know when to tell authority figures what you're up to!"

Harry was about to reply when he heard a barely concealed chuckle coming from one of the paintings. McGonagall turned sharply, glaring at the last portrait. "Oh, be quiet!" she snapped.

Harry turned to see the Dumbledore in the picture with his eyes twinkling, holding a hand over his mouth as if to signal that he wouldn't say another word. Though he made no more sound, his eyes still glittered amusedly in his portrait.

Harry felt better knowing that Dumbledore didn't find his silence useless. It seemed that he approved that he had kept it to himself, only sharing with Ron and Hermione as he'd been allowed to.

Harry lifted the glittering sword he still held in his soot-blackened hand and placed it carefully on McGonagall's desk. He stepped back with Ron and Hermione, who had been fairly quiet. They seemed to think Harry was doing a fine job of facing the Headmistress.

"Just as I found it," he said simply, and then turned and left through the door and out to the corridor beyond, leaving Professor McGonagall alone in her study.

She frowned at the sword for a moment then turned to the portraits on the wall, going directly to the last one. "Dumbledore, this is all your fault. If you would just _tell_ him he could tell other people, he would!"

"I can't do that, Minerva. For one, I am no longer alive and my word does not hold the same power it once did. For another, I believe Harry has done well in concealing our secret thus far." Dumbledore smiled calmly at McGonagall, who only became more annoyed.

"Why can't you tell me, Albus? I'd like to know what was going on in my school at the very least."

Dumbledore chuckled softly. "Minerva, you always did want to know everything." She frowned. "But I'm afraid it's not for me to tell anymore. I feel Harry is doing well. He has made it this far and I believe he is succeeding."

"Succeeding with what?!" she exclaimed, annoyed at the former-Headmaster's riddle-some talk.

Dumbledore just smiled. "Enough talk, Minerva, how about we play a game of wizard’s chess?"

McGonagall sighed and rolled her eyes, ignoring the eccentric professor's request. Instead, she sunk into her chair behind the desk and put her head in her hands, wondering if any good could come out of this war.

*

Harry, Ron, and Hermione retreated from the office and walked slowly back to the Gryffindor common room. Harry felt only slightly better knowing that he had the Horcrux safely stowed in his bag. He still felt, however, that they needed to destroy it as soon as possible.

They made their way directly to the common room, not speaking to each other and brushing off anyone else who tried. Finally, they made it to the portrait hole and went inside to find the common room empty. It was like this most of the time, they had noticed. Either students were in class or they were shut up safely inside their dorms.

They stood in the middle of the common room for several minutes until Harry broke the silence. "Where should we go?"

All three of them looked around like they might find another hidden room somewhere in the common room. When none appeared, they looked at each other.

"I know," Hermione piped up. "We could go to my room. There’s no one in there."

"Great idea," Harry said unenthusiastically. "There's just the problem that we can't get up the stairs."

"Oh, there are ways around that," Hermione said dismissively.

"There are?" Ron asked suspiciously, eyeing Hermione carefully.

"Of course, there's a way around everything," Hermione said while walking over to the steps that lead up to the girl's dormitory. She took out her wand and waved it a few times at the steps, muttering something under her breath.

She stood back and they waited for a few minutes while nothing happened. Harry was becoming skeptical that it would really work.

"Okay," Hermione said finally, starting to walk towards the stairs. She stepped on them easily, not surprising. Harry and Ron shared an uneasy look and followed carefully.

Harry stepped on the first step gingerly and, when it didn't scream and transform into a slide, took a few more steps. When he had made it halfway up, Ron seemed to be convinced it was finally safe.

He crept up carefully, coming quickly behind Harry as though the staircase might change its minds at any time and hurl him down. Together, they followed Hermione closely, finally coming to a landing where a door led off to the side and had a sign labeled, "Seventh Years".

They went through this door and into the room within. It was much like the boys' dorm, with the same beds and bedside tables. Hermione's was the only bed that was made up. The other few beds in the room looked desolate and empty in comparison.

Hermione had books piled all around her bed, over the tables and up to the windowsill. Harry picked his way through the towers of book and sat down gingerly on her bed. Ron stood awkwardly by the door as if he didn't know what to do.

Hermione pushed aside some books and came to sit on the bed with Harry. She watched with some trepidation as he removed the dark wooden box. He moved his bag to the floor and set the box in the middle of the bed before them.

Ron seemed to forget his unease of being in Hermione's room and came forward, stepping over the books strewn about the floor. He finally came to the foot of the bed and sat on it carefully, trying not to disturb the box, like it might explode if he shifted any.

For a moment, they all just stared at the box. It was entirely plain except for the sapphire paced into the wood on the top. Finally, Harry reached over and pulled it to him. Ron and Hermione watched, their eyes wide.

"Do you think we can open it?" Harry asked the other two.

"Try it," Hermione prodded. "I think it might be that whatever is inside the box is the Horcrux, not the box itself."

Harry nodded and placed his fingers at the edge of the box, hoping it would come apart easily. To his surprise, the moment he pulled, the lid slid off quite easily. All three of them leaned over the top of the box to get a closer look inside.

Lying on a dark blue velvet cloth was a long wand; ten inches, made of willow and Phoenix tail. The light from Hermione's bedside lamp flickered over the lightly-colored wood of the wand.

"Do you think it's really a Founder's?" Harry breathed, not yet daring to reach into the box and attempt to pick up the wand just yet.

"Of course," Hermione replied promptly and Harry turned to her.

"How do you know that?"

"It says so right here," she said, pointing to an inscription on the top of the box Harry hadn't noticed. In a curly, elaborate script, it read, " _Rowena Ravenclaw, Hogwarts Founder_."

"Wow," Ron said in awe. He seemed unable to believe that they had a Founder’s Object.

"Well, it makes sense, doesn't it?" Hermione said. Everything always seemed to make sense to her, Harry thought. "The Ravenclaw house is known for intelligence. It only seems fit that V-Voldemort would choose the thing that best suits her house. Her wand is the perfect choice. It symbolizes everything Ravenclaws are; knowledge and learning. Voldemort prized those qualities in himself. Naturally, he would want it to guard his Horcrux."

Harry and Ron stared at her. Once again, she had exerted her incredible reasoning skills to their amazement. The more Harry thought about it, the more it made sense. Voldemort seemed to like Objects that were particularly significant to his connections and the founders with which he associated them.

Now, however, they were faced with the ever-present problem of how to destroy yet another Horcrux. Harry stared at the wand as though willing it to tell him the answer to his query. When no stroke of genius came to him, he sat back, discouraged, and tried to figure it out.

"Maybe we should try a spell," Hermione said slowly.

Harry looked over at her, a skeptical look gracing his features. "What kind of spell?"

"A simple one. I'm just curious..." Hermione said, sitting up straighter.

Harry gave her a questioning look, not sure he liked the sound of her suggestion. She was grabbing for her wand and put it into the box, touching the tips of the wands together. Harry now gave her an apprehensive look as she set her face.

" _Priori Incantatem_ ," she said firmly.

A smoky ghost of what looked like a lightening bolt rose out of the wand, flashing angrily in the air before them. Suddenly and without warning, the wand let out a screaming sound like it was being ripped in two.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared in horror, too shocked to even cover their ears from the terrible screeching. The lightening bolt flashed and shot down at the tip of the wand. Each time it made contact, the wand jerked and shuddered, screaming in agony.

They watched as a grey ghost of a snake-like face erupted from the wand, careening around in circles around the bolt of lightening. The wand screamed louder and Hermione was finally shocked to her senses. She wrenched her wand away from the other and in a puff of smoke, the ghosts disappeared and the wand laid still and quiet.

They were all deathly silent for a moment. Harry was unable to fathom what they had just seen. 

Hermione finally spoke into the quiet. "We shouldn't have seen that," she said, her voice high and concerned. She reached over and seized the top of the box, slamming it on.

"What was that?" Harry asked, confused.

"That was how Voldemort makes his Horcruxes," Hermione whispered in horror.

Harry turned and stared at the box sitting so innocently on the bed. His mouth was open in silent disbelief. It wasn't enough that Voldemort had desecrated a Hogwarts Founder by using their possession to store a Horcrux, but he had actually used the wand to do it. The thought made Harry sick to his stomach.

Hermione stood up from her bed like she couldn't stand sitting next to the box anymore. Ron stood up as well, an expression of disgust on his face as he stared at the box.

"I--I think I'm going to go to the library," Hermione said quickly and left them alone in the room.

Harry hesitated but reached over and took the box, putting it back in his bag. He then stood up and followed Ron out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

***

The days turned to weeks as Harry, Ron, and Hermione lingered in the castle. They still did not attend any classes and rarely left their dormitories. The boys in Harry's dorm were beginning to become curious as to why they were there and seemingly not doing anything.

They weren't doing nothing, though. They spent most of their time trying desperately to figure out how to destroy the Horcrux that was nestled safely in Harry's bag at all times. He carried it with him everywhere now, just as a precaution. 

Hermione spent her days in the library, buried up to her elbows in books. Books on Charms, Transfiguration, Potions; anything she thought might be helpful. She had even braved Professor McGonagall's temper and asked for an unlimited pass to the Restricted Section.

She spent hour after hour pouring over books, hoping to find even the slightest mention of what to do with a Horcrux. She had little hope that she might find anything. The last time she had searched for information on the subject, she had come up short. Even the Restricted Section bore no results.

Anytime Harry wanted Hermione, all he had to do was look for the largest pile of books in the library. This was where he found her, several weeks after the finding of the Horcrux.

Harry was getting increasingly frustrated at their inactivity. He felt like a lazy git, staying safely inside the castle while the war was raging beyond its walls. It killed him to think that Draco was still out there somewhere and he was sitting here in the Hogwarts library with no hope of actually accomplishing anything.

"Found anything yet?" he asked dully as he plopped down in the only non-book laden chair. Hermione came up from the book she'd been scouring looking distinctly ruffled as she glared around at the mountainous piles of books.

"Very little," she answered huffily, glaring at the books like they had done her a personal wrong.

"Well, what _have_ you found?" Harry asked, resting his elbows on the table and placing his chin in his hands as he looked at her.

"That everyone is too frightened to write about it," Hermione snapped.

Harry didn't say anything for a moment, knowing that she wasn't angry at him, just incredibly frustrated by the lack of information.

"You know, Harry," she said a second later, "I think we just ought to revert back to our original idea."

"You mean that we have to kill them like mortal human beings?"

"Precisely," she said, pushing aside a mountain of books and clearing a space on the table. "How shall we do it?"

She looked at Harry expectantly and he started to laugh, the stress of the situation finally weighing down on him. Hermione just shook her head as he continued to laugh. He finally quieted down at a sharp reprimand from Madam Pince.

He turned to Hermione, still shaking with suppressed laughter. "You think I know?! Hell, if I knew, Voldemort would be dead and I'd be on a beach somewhere with--drinking Margaritas." He caught himself at the last minute and just barely stopped from saying Draco.

Hermione gave him an odd look but let it go as she returned to her frustration of the situation. "You must have some idea."

"I really don't, Hermione," he said with conviction. "You're supposed to be the smart one!" he burst out.

Hermione glared at him. "Thanks," she said acidly.

"You know what I mean," he sighed. "You're actually smart enough to figure this out."

"So are you, Harry," she said seriously. "You've found all the," she looked around and lowered her voice, "Horcruxes. You figured out how to get the last one. You've known where they've been."

"It's all luck!" Harry exclaimed, annoyed that it always seemed to come back to him and _his_ skills.

Hermione just shook her head. "It isn't, Harry, no matter how much you'd like to believe that."

Harry merely scowled and said no more on the subject. He was tired of everyone assuming he was some sort of super person who could solve all problems and make everything better. They didn't realize that he was just a normal kid trying to live his life, except that his life happened to contain a madman who tried to kill him every year.

"Anyway," Hermione said, drawing the conversation back to its original purpose, "we've got to figure out how to destroy this."

"Well," Harry said, still feeling a bit displeased from the previous conversation, "I would say burn it, but we know that won't work."

"Yes," Hermione said, looking discouraged. She glanced around at the books, wishing there was something, anything, that would help them.

"Breaking it would probably do nothing."

"I wouldn't suppose. I doubt we could simply break it anyway."

"How do people get rid of wood anyway, if they don't use fire?!" Harry exclaimed, his frustration getting the better of him.

Hermione sighed, thinking hard. They sat in silence, Harry scowling at the table and Hermione thinking to herself. After a minute or two, Hermione's eyes lit up and she dived into the pile of books, digging through until she found one.

Harry barely got a glimpse of the cover before she ripped it open and hastily riffled through the pages. The title had read, "Plants of the Muggle World and their Weaknesses." Harry gave Hermione an odd look as she flipped through the pages at an alarming speed.

She finally found what she wanted and flattened it out on the table, reading quickly. "'There are many weaknesses of the Muggle Willow tree. Though fire is a major destroyer of its limbs, it is also subject to infections from other plants that aim to suffocate the plant from root up. The Willow tree is like most other Muggle trees, unable to protect itself against bark eating insects that can kill the tree if their number is too great...'" She stopped reading and looked up at Harry.

"What?" he asked.

"Harry, I think this is it," she said excitedly.

"What is?"

"Insects!"

"What?" he asked in disbelief. "Insects?"

"Yes, don't you see? Voldemort would never expect someone to want to destroy his Horcrux in a Muggle way. He would find it too far below him to do so. These insects would eat the tree, thereby releasing the Horcrux from its confines."

"And how are you going to get these insects?" Harry asked skeptically. It all sounded a bit dodgy to him.

"In the forest, of course," she said, as though it was obvious. She stood up, now positively bouncing with excitement. "You get Ron and meet me in my dorm in twenty minutes." With that, she sped out of the library, leaving Harry surrounded by her piles of books.

Harry shrugged and left the library, ignoring the angry glare he received from Madam Pince when he left all the books, unsorted, behind. He walked up to the Gryffindor common room and found Ron lounging in an armchair by the fire. He was surrounded by Dean and Neville.

"Harry!" Dean greeted him when he neared. "Want to sit down?" He took out his wand and made to conjure another chair but Harry's stopped him.

"No, that's okay," he said quickly then turned to Ron. "Ron, there's something I need to tell you."

"What is it?" Ron asked. 

Harry glanced at the other two boys, noticing how they were listening to the conversation closely. "It's about the..."

"The what?" Ron asked and Harry restrained himself from slapping a hand to his forehead.

"Just come on!" he exclaimed, grabbing Ron's arm and dragging him up the girl’s staircase.

Dean and Neville stared after them, identical looks of confusion and suspicion on their faces. Dean turned to Neville. "Something weird is going on."

"Yeah," Neville agreed, gazing up the stairs after them.

Harry threw Ron down on the bed and Ron sat up, looking disgruntled. "What, Harry?" he asked, annoyed at being handled so.

"Hermione thinks she's figured out how to destroy the Horcrux," Harry answered directly, having no desire to beat around the bush at that moment in time.

Ron's eyes widened. "She has? How? Where is she?!"

"She’s gone to get it," Harry told him.

Ron's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Get what?"

"It's--" Harry started but was interrupted as Hermione burst in the door, looking winded but exhilarated.

"I got it!"

"Got what?!" Ron exclaimed.

"You didn't tell him?" Hermione asked, turning to Harry.

Harry let out an indignant sigh. "I was trying to!"

Hermione frowned. "Well, never mind. I've got them. I really hope this works."

She moved over to the bed and took a small bag out of her pocket. It was wriggling slightly and Ron eyed it carefully. 

"It's not spiders," Harry said, rolling his eyes. Ron relaxed a little but not much, still keeping a safe distance from the bag.

Hermione raised her wand and conjured a large glass jar once more. She then asked Harry for Ravenclaw’s wand which he unearthed carefully. He set it down on the bed carefully and Hermione slid back the top slowly.

She reached into the box and gently lifted the wand out. She gingerly placed it into the jar and picked up the squirming bag once more.

"I've put an Appetizer Enlarging Charm on them," she said, indicating the bag. "That will make it much faster."

Harry nodded and Ron continued to look confused. She opened the top and poured the contents into the jar. Harry watched as about five little brown insects tumbled into the jar, landing on the floor and immediately scurrying around, bumping into the sides.

Hermione screwed on the lid tightly, sealing it with another Unbreakable Charm. She set it back on the middle of the bed and sat back to watch. 

Harry moved closer, squinting at the small bugs that milled about the bottom of the jar. They hadn't seemed to have discovered the piece of wood standing in the middle. As Harry watched, one of the insects bumped into the handle of the wand. It looked disoriented for a moment then seemed to realize what it had just hit.

Harry watched as the bug opened its jaws wide and began to chomp away at the wood. The wand gave an evil hiss as the other bugs found it and began swarming over it, biting into the soft wood, eating away at its outside.

They were all silent as they watched the insects devour the piece of wood. Little by little, the wand vanished into the chomping mouths of the insects. With each bite, the wand shivered angrily but the bugs paid no attention. Harry wasn't sure whether they could hear it or not.

With a particularly vicious hiss, Harry saw that the one of the bugs had bitten down to the core of the wand. He could see the golden-red color of a feather peeking underneath the light-colored wood.

The insect took another bite and the wand shuddered angrily and Harry knew it was happening. Just like the other Horcrux, a shadow of a skull pushed its way out of the hole and into the jar. The wand continued to spit madly as the insects chewed away at its outsides.

When the hole was large, the skull rose up into the jar, floating away to nothingness, vanishing in a wisp of grey smoke. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared in amazement as the skull disappeared. At once, the wand stopped hissing and allowed itself to be eaten by the ravenous insects in the jar.

As Harry watched the wand vanish into the stomachs of the insects, he felt a twinge of guilt for letting something like Ravenclaw's wand be destroyed. But he knew it had to be done.

Finally, there was nothing left in the jar but a few very sated bugs. Hermione picked up the jar, examining it closely. Not a splinter was left in the bottom of the jar, only the feather lay at the bottom, frayed in areas the insects had chewed.

"Cool," Ron breathed, finally moving in closer to look at the insects. Harry just rolled his eyes and sat back on the bed.

_Only three more to go,_ " he thought. " _Cup, Snake, and Voldemort himself..._ "

 

~~**~~

_  
A/N: Let's see, last chapter got us up to speed with the rest of my archives so here's something new for you all. Hope you enjoyed :) Please review._


	24. The Dark Lord Wandering

*

Lucius Malfoy moved swiftly and silently through the damp woods. His black cloak swathed him in darkness as he crept around tall trees and thorny brambles. His face was hidden in shadow as he moved on, methodically stalking his prey.

His wand was out as he scoured the landscape, peering into every dark crevice that presented itself. Lucius was furious. He'd been searching everywhere for his son and had found nothing. He wanted to know why Draco had fallen out of the Dark Lord's confidence so quickly, and when he'd been duly punished, he had run away. 

Lucius had not raised Draco to fear the Dark Lord. He was to worship him and serve him until the end. What could have happened to cause him to stray from his service? Though, now, it wasn't so much about Draco's disloyalty, it was that Lucius was unable to find him.

He had searched everywhere for his heir. He had gone every single place he could think of where he might be. Though he had never really taken the time to get to know his son, he thought he might have an idea of where Draco would hide.

He had even resorted to asking Narcissa what she thought. She had given a placid answer and gone back to moping around the house. Ever since Draco had been taken prisoner by the Dark Lord, Narcissa had seemingly blamed Lucius for it and refused to speak to him unless necessary.

He had found her in Draco's room several weeks previously, just standing there. She must have been lost in thought because when he had demanded what she had been doing, she had replied in a blank voice, void of any emotion. He had been too furious at the moment to even take the time to contemplate it.

He was sick and tired of tracking Draco through dark forests, always tearing his clothes on thorns from bushes as he traipsed through. Why Draco would think to hide in a forest was beyond him. It was certainly degrading and dirty; far too dirty for a Malfoy.

Lucius stopped suddenly, listening closely. Around him, the leaves on the trees rustled ominously, swishing around his head. He froze as the wind whistled through the branches, sending leaves swirling everywhere.

Then Lucius heard a sound and snapped his head around, staring deep into the black depths of the forest. He pulled his cloak tighter around his body, obscuring it and blending into the forest background.

From a dark archway emerged a dark figure, moving swiftly towards where Lucius stood. Lucius didn't move, staring at the man who was approaching him.

The man was also wearing a long, black cloak that swept the ground. His face was also masked with shadows, but Lucius could make out the glitter of dark eyes watching him.

"Lucius." A voice reached his ears and he knew who it was. 

He finally moved, now sure it was safe. "Severus, you startled me."

Snape made no offer of apology, only looked at Lucius closely. "The Dark Lord has sent me to check on your progress. Are you any closer to finding Draco?"

"I do not need to be checked up on," Lucius sneered. 

"The Dark Lord seems to think so," Snape said coolly. "What have you found?"

"Little," Lucius replied, his tone angry. "Draco seems to be smarter than I thought."

"I have always told you," Snape said. "He shows aptitude in everything he attempts. I doubt you will be able to find him unless he makes a mistake."

"He's bound to," Lucius sneered, looking back around the wooded forest floor.

Snape shook his head but Lucius didn't see, still concentrating on the ground. "Lucius, what will you do if you find him?"

" _When_ I find him, he will find out what it means to have loyalty. And then I shall turn him over to the Dark Lord so he may have his fun."

"Have you no compassion for your son?"

Lucius turned to Snape, a steely glint in his dark silver eyes. "He has no compassion for the Dark Order. I have none for him. He needs to learn that."

Snape said nothing more, letting Lucius glare at him for a moment before returning to his scouring. Finally, Snape spoke up once more.

"He is sending someone to help," he told Lucius.

Lucius looked up at him, an expression of complete fury on his face. "Someone to help? I do not need help. I can find him on my own."

"The Dark Lord doesn't agree," Snape said simply. "He has assigned another tracker to help."

There was a small pop at that moment and a tall man dressed in black appeared next to Snape. Lucius glared at the man, like it was his fault he was failing.

"Macnair will help you find Draco and capture him," Snape said. "He expects it will go faster with two people."

Lucius knew what Snape meant by that. It meant that Voldemort was growing impatient with the amount of time it was taking. Draco should have been captured weeks ago. In fact, he shouldn't have escaped in the first place!

Macnair moved forward, the familiar flash of silver reflecting from the axe in his belt. He stood proudly in front of Lucius. "Don't worry, Lucius. We will find him."

Lucius didn't look at all pleased at the Dark Lord's solution, but as he had no choice, he was forced to accept it. Snape looked between the pair of them and decided his job was finished.

"With two the work goes twice as fast," he said cryptically and vanished in a pop.

Lucius turned without a word and plunged deeper into the forest, Macnair at his heels. They followed a small footpath until they came to a fork. Here, Lucius stopped, crouching down to the ground. Macnair remained standing, his eyes roving over the dark leaves and deep crevices that surrounded them.

Lucius stood up suddenly and looked to his right. Farther in, he could see remnants of burned bushes. Without a word, he turned off the path and began pushing his way through the underbrush, Macnair struggling along behind him.

He followed this make-shift path until he came to a stop when he nearly ran into a huge tree trunk that sprang up before him. As he looked at it, it reeked of magic. He moved around cautiously, looking at the solid trunk.

He lifted his wand and sent a spell at the trunk. It did nothing. Another spell and still nothing. Several spells, charms, and curses later, the trunk remained stubbornly solid. Lucius was enraged that he could not access whatever was inside. Obviously, it was something of importance if it was sealed so.

Macnair came up beside Lucius and also attempted a few spells, but none were successful. Finally, Lucius had to accept that there was no visible means of breaking the barriers that surrounded the trunk.

Instead, he searched the ground for any trace of his son. He found marks in the ground that indicated someone had stood there some time before. He took out his wand and waved it over the footprint and it emitted a white light for a second, telling Lucius all he needed to know. His eyes lit up as he realized that he had finally found Draco's trail.

***

"Why did you do that?"

"What?"

"Sneak in here. You know it's not safe. Anyone could wake up and find you. They would probably kill you and then me, too."

Draco rolled over in the bed, sighing deeply and propping himself up on his elbow and looking down at Harry. "Then they'll kill me," he said simply.

Harry frowned. "Draco, that's not funny. Ron probably would and then we'd have to tell them something."

Draco reached down, running a hand through Harry's unruly hair, stroking it softly. "And what would we tell them?"

Harry paused, looking up at Draco apprehensively. Draco gave him a soft smile and leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to Harry's lips. Harry's eyes drifted shut as the kiss deepened and Draco slipped his tongue into the hot mouth, gently caressing Harry's tongue.

Harry gave a satisfied sigh when Draco pulled away and pressed kisses down his neck and collarbone. "You know what I'd tell them?" Draco whispered against Harry's neck.

"Hmmm," was Harry's only response. His whole body was relaxing under Draco's touch.

"I'd tell them that I get to fuck the hottest guy in the school, and if they don't like it, they can go fuck themselves."

Despite himself, Harry couldn't help laughing. He grinned and could feel Draco smirking against his neck. Harry took hold of Draco's neck and steered him back so he could see him, pulling him in close to his lips.

"That would make them like you," Harry said simply.

Draco smirked. "Wouldn't it, though?" he asked rhetorically before crashing his lips onto Harry's in an explosion of passion.

Harry groaned loudly and ran his hand into Draco's silky locks, tugging him closer as the kiss went on. Draco slid his tongue into Harry's mouth skillfully, coercing Harry's tongue into a passionate battle. He pulled on Harry's lower lip with his teeth, nibbling on the lip with his teeth.

Harry moaned and shifted on the bed, settling himself underneath Draco's body that now lay neatly on top of his. Suddenly, he felt Draco's erection brush against his.

"Draco-- wait," he gasped, breaking the kiss and looking up at Draco, who looked winded and flushed.

"What?" he asked in a breathless voice. "What's wrong, Harry?"

"Nothing," Harry said quietly. "I just-- can we not do it tonight? Can we just stay here, together?"

Draco paused for a moment as he looked down at Harry, contemplating the raven-haired boy. After a bit, Draco ran his hand behind Harry's neck and leaned in close, kissing him softly.

"Of course," he told him quietly. He slid down into the bed next to Harry, wrapping his hands around Harry's waist and pulling him closer. He breathed in Harry's scent and closed his eyes, feeling content for the first time in a long time. He knew this was what he wanted.

Draco awoke with a start, the feeling of warm comfort immediately gone. He found he was cold and sleeping on the hard ground. He shivered and pulled his jacket tighter around his body, almost wishing he had brought a cloak with him.

He pushed himself off the ground, wincing as his muscles screamed in stiffness for sleeping on the ground. He looked around him, taking in the lush greenery and the low mist that hung over the stretching expanse of grass. The grass was wet with dew drops as Draco stretched and grabbed his pack from the ground, wiping the water off it.

He slung the pack over his back and glanced around quickly, checking to see if he was being followed. He doubted it since he had placed an Anti-Tracking Spell around himself. Even so, there was always the possibility that someone might spot him and report back to the Dark Lord.

Once he was sure he was alone, he moved quickly out of the small overhang under which he had camped the night before. He went carefully into the shade of some damp trees that stood on the edge of the field. He followed the path along a winding stream and past where it diverted.

At length, he came to a small cottage-like house, covered in vines that wound around up the sides and over the roof. The white flowers were blooming, opening up for the water to drip into them. Draco looked around again, making absolutely sure that he was alone. He didn't like feeling so vulnerable.

He went to the front door and pushed it open cautiously, then stepped inside. The first room was small, Draco saw. In the corner, a ruined table stood, blackened and burned, barely a stump. Shards of wood scattered the floor, and Draco crunched over them as he moved further into the room. It was obvious there had been a battle there.

He was about to go into the next room when he noticed something on the floor; a scarlet stain. Draco's stomach gave a lurch as he stared at the bloodstain that adorned the floor. He forced himself to look away, though, and continued on to the kitchen. In here, too, were remnants of a battle. Old, broken kitchen tools were scattered about the floor. Another ruined table stood in this room. It looked like something very heavy had landed on it and cracked it in two.

Draco backed away from the battle-ridden items and stared around him. He knew Harry had been there; he could tell. He stood in the kitchen, desperately hoping that it wasn’t Harry's blood that had seeped into the wooden floor out in the living room.

***

"My lord, they've captured him."

"Who?"

"Macnair, my lord, he was with Malfoy searching for the boy but Aurors showed up and took them. Malfoy escaped through dark magic, but Macnair was taken. We believe he may be dead already."

"Tell me, Rookwood, how do these Aurors continue to know the whereabouts of my followers?"

"Perhaps there is a spy in the ranks, my lord."

"He would have to be high up to know that sort of thing."

"They might have been passing information for some time. Aurors and members of the Order always seem to know what we're going to do."

"You're right, Rookwood. Passing information for a long time, and they always seem to know. How did you come by this information?"

"I-it was in the _Daily Prophet_ , my lord."

"The _Prophet_? You didn't hear this directly?"

"M-my lord, no, I can't have. I have been busy serving you."

"Rookwood, you are trying my patience."

"No, my lord! I did not! It was not m--"

" _Avada Kedavra!_ " And there was silence.

 

~~**~~

A/N: So apparently I've fallen off the face of the earth? I know, it's been over a month! I'm sorry. I got sucked into bandslash and working on original fics and NaNoWriMo is soon... ahem, please review!


	25. Pensieve Surfing

*

"We're wasting time!"

"And what do you propose we do, Harry?" Hermione sat crossly in an armchair as Harry bore down on her and Ron. Harry had been growing increasingly impatient ever since they had destroyed the last Horcrux, over a week ago. September was quickly passing into October while they stayed in the school.

"We need to find the next Horcrux!" Harry exclaimed, annoyed at their lack of energy. Every day spent in a lazy stupor in the castle was a day more Draco was at the hands of Voldemort.

"Of course, we do, Harry. But are you proposing we just go traipsing off into the wilderness without so much as an idea of where to go or what to do?" Hermione asked, sounding annoyed. Harry had been hounding them for days to get a move on; for what reason, she didn't know.

She knew he wanted to get rid of Voldemort once and for all. That was simple. But his new fervor to get it done as quickly as possible was starting to wear on her nerves. He was constantly reminding them that they were wasting time; they were running out of time, they needed to go, they couldn't just sit there...

"Harry," Ron said, trying to calm him down, "do you know anything about the next Horcrux?"

Harry stopped. He'd been about to shoot a scathing response but Ron's question had thrown him. "Well, I know it's either Hufflepuff's cup or Voldemort's snake, Nagini. I don't think that we'll be able to get to the snake, so that one will probably be the last one before I kill Voldemort."

Ron nodded without saying anything. Hearing Harry talk so calmly about killing someone was a little disconcerting.

"But, Harry," Hermione interrupted, "you don't even know where the cup is. How do you expect to find it if we just take off? I think it's better if we stay here and figure it out first."

"I don't want to stay here!"

"But _why_?" Hermione pushed. "Is it because of Dumbledore?"

"What? No," Harry said dismissively. It was true that he did feel awkward staying inside the castle where it had once been so friendly and warming and now it seemed cold and distant to him without Dumbledore's presence. Yes, he avoided the Astronomy Tower whenever he went onto the grounds, but other than that, his dislike of staying at the castle had little to do with Dumbledore.

The real reason for his increased impatience was the growing feeling of unease that came upon him at random times. Sometimes, the snake on his wrist would give a jerk and hiss quietly. Other times, it would sink its tiny fangs into Harry's skin. It always happened when that same uneasy feeling came over him. He wondered if it didn't have something to do with Draco.

Either way, he knew he couldn't just stay inside the castle like he once had. This was a war, damn it! People were dying every day and Harry was the only one with the power to stop it all. Even with the weight of the entire wizarding world on his shoulders, Harry was focused on only one thing: Draco. He had to save him, wherever he was, whatever deed the Dark Lord was forcing him to do (or doing to him) as punishment.

"Well, then, why do we have to leave here so soon with no plan whatsoever?" Hermione asked.

"I just don't want to stay here anymore, okay?" Harry said, giving her a pleading look to drop it. He couldn't tell them why, not yet. He knew they weren't ready. Ron would never understand and Hermione might, but it would still be difficult.

Hermione didn't look convinced but allowed the subject to turn to other, less interesting, subjects. When the portrait hole swung open and Neville and Dean clambered through, they took the extra seats around them in the common room.

"So, Harry," Dean said, "how much longer are you gonna be around? There’s a Quidditch match on Saturday: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. You interested? You used to be captain and all. Ginny's still on the team. I bet she'd love to see you."

Harry didn't reply for a moment. So far, he had done a pretty good job of avoiding Ginny. The subject wasn't spoken of between him, Ron, and Hermione at all. It had taken on an air of a guarded secret that none spoke of.

"Maybe," Harry said, not committing to anything and carefully avoiding the subject of Ginny. "I don't know how much longer we're staying."

"What are you doing here anyway?" Dean asked curiously and Neville perked up, interested in the subject now.

"It's just..." Harry trailed away. He really didn't know what to tell them besides the truth.

"Research," Hermione supplied, smiling lightly. The tone of her voice was pleasant but made it perfectly clear that they weren't to ask that question again.

Dean and Neville nodded, clearly afraid of invoking Hermione's wrath. Ron looked amused at how she commanded the room, much like Professor McGonagall.

"I think I'm going to go lie down," Harry said suddenly, standing up from his chair. All four of the other people looked surprised as he rose and gave them a half-smile. "I'll see you later."

He turned then and started up the stairs. He had no intention of lying down; in fact, he meant to do what he always did. It was becoming quite the habit for him nowadays. He would go upstairs, pull the curtains around his bed, set a locking and silencing spell and pull out the Pensieve.

He had come to regard the Pensieve as an invaluable source. When he had first received it, he hadn’t found it to be useful at all, but then, he hadn't been going into any memories either. He now knew that it was better to go into the memories no matter how unrelated they might seem. He understood what Dumbledore had told him once about being able to see patterns easier this way.

He reached the dorm and did his usual routine of locking and silencing the bed then pulled out the Pensieve, setting it on the bed in front of him and poking the top with his wand. The silver memories swirled as always until they reached a stop.

Harry moved to lean over the basin to see in when a ghostly shape rose out of the top of the bowl, much like the teenage Bertha Jorkins had done just a few years ago when Harry had first seen the Pensieve. This time, though, it was not Bertha Jorkins; it was Snape.

Harry's eyes widened as the potion’s master rose from the basin and revolved slowly. 

"Sir, I can't do it... No, I refuse!" Snape spoke in intervals as if half of the conversation was missing. "... I don't care! I'm tired of this! You know what I have done... Yes, sir, I know... I realize... Yes, I will..."

Snape's ghost stopped revolving and faded slowly back into the basin. Harry’s expression was extremely confused. What was Snape talking about? He had sounded quite worried in the middle and adamant as well. Harry supposed it would have been much easier to tell if he'd had the other half of the conversation. He supposed it had been Dumbledore with whom Snape had been speaking.

It hardly made sense to Harry. Obviously, Snape hadn't wanted to do something but Dumbledore had forced him to. Maybe it had been to continue being a double-agent. Snape must have been tired of his role and wanted to quit but then he would just go behind Dumbledore's back and kill him, Harry thought bitterly.

Harry laid back on his bed, resting his head on the pillow, the Pensieve still sitting in front of him. As he stared at the ceiling, he wondered what could have made Snape so angry. He had to guess it was something Dumbledore had wanted him to do.

_But what would he want him to do?_ Harry wondered.

Harry couldn't figure it out for the life of him as he lay on his bed, facing the ceiling. His bedside lamp flickered as a draft came in through a tiny gap in the hangings. He felt tired as he lay there, listening to the soft rustling of fabric, and before he knew it, he was drifting into a heavy sleep.

He opened his eyes and found himself sitting at a small, round table at a roadside cafe. He looked to his left and saw that it was merely a small restaurant that seemed to be set outside of the city. It had to be springtime since the flowers in the pots next to the table were in full bloom and he was comfortably warm.

He looked up and across the table to see that he was not alone. There was someone in the seat across from him. She was smiling softly and her blue eyes were sparkling in the sun.

"Rose?" he asked in amazement.

"Oui, 'Arry," she replied and swept her long, blonde hair over her shoulder. "I 'ave come to see you-- to see 'ow you are doing."

"I'm doing..." Harry tried to say "fine" but it didn't want to come. He knew that everything was not fine.

"I know what 'as 'appened," Rose said quietly when Harry stalled for words.

"You do?" 

"Oui, you are worried for 'im. You 'ave done much already, 'Arry. Do not worry so."

"How can I not worry?!" Harry exploded. None of the other customers at the restaurant so much as turned their heads. "I don't even know where he is! I'm sitting in some stupid, safe castle while he's out there--" He gestured wildly to his left, over a green field that spread out beyond the cafe. "--doing God knows what! Or having God knows what done to him! I can't just let it go! He's gone and it's all my fault." He stopped there, finally saying what he'd been thinking for months.

Rose gave him a sympathetic look as he struggled to control his emotions, holding back the tears that had welled in his eyes as he said it.

"Eet is not your fault," she said consolingly.

"Yes, it is!" he exclaimed. "I could have stopped him! If I hadn't-- He would have--" Harry stopped as his tears began to choke him and rolled down his face. He hastily wiped them away with the back of his sleeve and carefully avoided Rose's eye.

He felt a firm hand on his shoulder and was forced to look up. Rose was looking him directly in the eyes, and Harry once again got that feeling that she was seeing right through him.

"No, 'Arry," she said firmly. "'E wanted to stop, but zere are singz zat we cannot control."

Harry looked up at her, his eyebrows furrowed. He wiped away another tear and took a breath, trying to calm himself. "But I could have stopped it."

"No," she said again, moving her hand to grasp his chin lightly. "But you can now."

"What?" he asked, confused.

"'Arry, 'e loves you and you love 'im. You must find 'im and save 'im."

"What do you think I'm trying to do?!" Harry exploded.

She didn't appear fazed by the outburst and simply continued. "You must 'ave patience. You are doing well. _Le petit dragon_ , 'e is waiting and will be safe a little while longer, I see. But do not waste your time. Many singz can occur when time is left alone."

Harry was confused yet again as Rose stood up from the table, smiling down at him.

"Wait," he said quickly. "What do you mean?"

"'Opefully, you will never need to know," Rose said softly and she turned, walking away from Harry and the table.

"Wh--wait!" he called again, rising from the table and sprinting after her. She turned around and waited for him to catch up.

"Oui?" she asked. 

"How-- do you know how he is? Where is he? Can I find him? Is he safe?"

Rose merely gave him a sad smile and gently took Harry's hand and gave it a squeeze. "I do not know all, 'Arry. You must rely on yourself for zose answers." She moved in and kissed his cheek lightly then let go of his hand and drifted away across the green field.

Harry stared after her, wishing she had told him more but knowing she was right. She didn't know it all, and even if she did, she couldn't tell him. He walked back slowly to the cafe and plopped down in his chair with a sigh.

Harry's eyes shot open and he realized he was lying on his four-poster bed in Gryffindor tower. He sat up quickly, seeing that the Pensieve was still sitting in between his legs. He peeked out the hanging for a second and saw that it was now dark outside. He could hear Neville's snores and knew that it must be late.

He looked back at the Pensieve where Snape's face was still swimming about on the surface. He picked up the basin and shook it violently, not wanting to see Snape's face or think about him anymore.

He set down the Pensieve that was swirling rapidly from the sudden motion. Harry gave a sigh and sat back on his bed, wondering if the dream with Rose had been real or a figment of his subconscious-- his subconscious desire to know about Draco.

Harry decided he really didn't want to think about anything anymore and reached over to put the Pensieve away when the image inside caught his eye.

From his vantage point, he could see Dumbledore standing with an old man, a man who didn't look particularly clean to Harry. He became curious and glanced around quickly then plunged headfirst into the memory.

He landed feet first in a dirty shop. He recognized it at once as Borgin & Burkes in Knockturn Alley. Dumbledore was speaking to an old, grizzly-looking man.

"... bit expensive for a memory," Dumbledore was saying pleasantly to the man.

"Well, Dumbledore," the man said in a gravelly voice, "it's like this. Man comes into the shop, looks fidgety. I don't trust him, but he says he got something to sell, something valuable. He takes this little bottle out--" The man then presented a small vial of what Harry recognized as a memory. "--and says it's got something really important in it."

"And what was in it?" Dumbledore asked conversationally, his eyes on the vial.

"Don't know," the man said, shrugging. "Can't get it open. You probably could, but I trust it's worth a pretty penny."

Dumbledore gave the look of someone who thought it was a bit too expensive. "I don't know, Burke, it seems a questionable value of a memory you can't open."

Burke scowled. "Listen, Dumbledore, you want this or not?"

"Bring it down twenty Galleons and I will take it," Dumbledore said calmly.

Burke didn't look pleased but he seemed willing to get rid of the memory. "Fine, fine," he grumbled. 

Dumbledore smiled graciously and took out the money and gave it to Burke. "I hope it's as valuable as you think it is."

Burke just nodded, still upset about the deal he had just made. Dumbledore turned and walked out of the shop, Harry following closely behind him. They walked up several streets in London and finally to The Leaky Cauldron where Dumbledore flooed to Hogwarts. Harry just made it into the fire in order to be transported with him.

They came out in the circular Headmaster's study. Dumbledore dusted off his robes and walked around to his desk, taking out the vial as he went and examining it closely.

"Hmm," he said to himself and Harry moved closer to hear better. "A simple Decoding Spell ought to open it. That foolish Burke is only half the wizard he pretends to be."

Dumbledore smiled at his own joke and set the vial down on his desk, raising his wand to open the memory. At that moment, though, there was a knock on the door. Dumbledore looked up and hastily grabbed the memory, shoving it behind one of the many books that sat on a shelf on the other side of his desk. After carefully concealing it, he opened the door.

Some teacher stood on the threshold looking quite harassed.

"Hello, Professor Mistle, what can I do for you?"

"Oh, that Sirius Black!" the professor exploded and Harry recognized her; it was the teacher Sirius had been doing detention with in the other memory. "He's done it again, sir! Three times this week I've found him in a closet with that boy!"

Harry wondered who she could be talking about, but had no time to really ponder the situation as Dumbledore spoke. "Give him another detention," he said calmly, but Harry saw that his eyes were twinkling as usual. "He will learn eventually."

The professor didn't seem quite satisfied with Dumbledore's answer but, nonetheless, left his office, slamming the door perhaps a little harder than was necessary.

Dumbledore walked back to his desk and sat down in his chair, pulling a bowl of Lemon Drops toward him and popping one into his mouth.

"Now, what was I doing?" he wondered aloud. He thought for a moment, but in the end, merely shrugged and grabbed another candy.

All of a sudden, Harry felt himself rising off his feet and was deposited on his bed. The memory was gone from the top of the Pensieve as he sat there, confused. It had been an odd memory. Dumbledore had gotten some memory from Burke but hadn't opened it. Did that mean he never had?

Harry's eyes grew wide as he thought about it. What could be in that memory? Was it still where Dumbledore had left it, so many years ago? He wondered about these questions as he sat, alert in his bed. He knew he had to find that memory, and find it he would.

 

~~**~~

A/N: Please review!


	26. Foggy Memories

~~**~~

 

"Ow, Ron, you're stepping on my foot!"

"Well, I don't have much room here!"

"Be quiet, you two!" Harry hushed them, peering around the large vase and looking down to where the gargoyle guarded the Headmistress' office.

"Harry," Hermione whined, "why can't we just ask McGonagall?"

"Because she's too suspicious already. I just want to get in there and have a quick look."

Hermione just shook her head and rolled her eyes. It was the next morning and Harry had wasted no time telling the other two of what he had learned in the Pensieve. He had dragged them off right after breakfast, and they had staged themselves behind a vase to watch the office.

Harry didn't want to tell McGonagall because he felt she was too suspicious of what they were doing and was unlikely to allow them to continue making unrelated requests. So they were currently waiting for McGonagall to leave her office so they might sneak in and search for the memory.

"Oh, oh, look!" Ron suddenly whispered, pointing at the gargoyle. All three squished into the shadows, watching as the gargoyle leapt aside and McGonagall emerged from the room. She turned and walked the opposite direction from them, heading for the Great Hall.

Once she was out of sight, Harry carefully crept from behind the vase and walked slowly to the entrance to the office. Hermione, looking uneasy, gave the password and the gargoyle moved aside once more, allowing them onto the revolving staircase.

They pushed open the door and went inside. The office was brightly lit from the sun streaming in the window. Most of the portraits on the walls were asleep, taking a mid-morning nap. Harry beckoned the others forward and they came, though reluctantly.

"Dumbledore hid it somewhere here," he said, pointing to the bookshelf that stood to the side of the desk.

Ron and Hermione looked at it closely. Hermione was reading some of the titles and beginning to look quite interested, momentarily forgetting her apprehension of "breaking into" a teacher's office.

"Wow, Harry," she breathed, "have you seen these books? Some of these are incredible!"

"Hermione," Harry said, annoyed, "that's not why we're here."

"Oh, right," she said quickly, putting back a book she'd been on the verge of pulling out.

"He hid it behind a book. It was on a shelf near the top, I think," Harry said, looking at the books closely. Though he had seen the memory, he couldn't remember exactly where Dumbledore had put the vial.

Around them, the portraits snoozed, one occasionally making a snuffling noise. Their presence made Harry a little uneasy and eager to finish as soon as possible.

"Just look behind them, okay?" he said, reaching up and pulling out a red-bound book. There was nothing behind it.

Ron and Hermione began pulling out books at random, hoping to find a silvery vial behind each one. They found nothing, though. Harry was beginning to become discouraged as they pulled out book after book with no results.

As he pulled out another blue book, he heard a slight cough behind him and froze. One of the portraits was awake. What would happen if it was Phineas? Surely, he wouldn't be supportive of them breaking in to the office to search it.

Ron and Hermione seemingly hadn't noticed anything as they continued to pull books from the shelves.

Harry didn't move, the book still clutched in his hand, praying whoever it was wouldn't mind them in there. He didn't know how many of the previous Headmasters and Headmistresses would approve of students searching their office.

"I'd try one shelf up, Harry, if I were you."

Harry felt a huge wave of relief flow over him as he recognized the voice. It was full of amusement and wisdom. Ron and Hermione now realized what was happening and dropped their books in surprise, spinning around to search the portraits for who had spoken.

Harry turned around slowly, looking at Dumbledore, who sat serenely in his portrait, smiling at the three of them. 

"I assume you are looking for something I lost many years ago?" he asked them, his voice pleasant and his eyes twinkling mischievously.

"I-- yes, Professor," Harry replied, finding it surreal to be talking to the man he had seen die only four months previously. 

"Yes, I remember now," Dumbledore said conversationally, as if it wasn't odd at all. "Took me a while to find it, and then, I lost it! Completely forgot where I put it; silly old men, you know." He gave them an amused smile.

Ron and Hermione both looked shocked as Dumbledore spoke to them in an entirely normal voice. They both glanced at Harry apprehensively like the experience might set him into a relapse. In fact, it was doing just the opposite. Harry felt better talking to Dumbledore. He felt like it was someone who just might understand how he felt.

"Why did you want the memory?" Harry asked pressingly, hoping Dumbledore might be able to give them information.

"Well, Burke always was smarter than he let on. I assume you saw that he did not know how to open the memory?" Harry nodded. "In truth, he did, he just knew enough that he didn't want to know what that particular memory held. Though he was a dirty dealer, he knew when things were valuable, and that memory, Harry, was valuable to him. Therefore, it would probably have benefited me much had I not lost it."

Harry thought for a moment. Dumbledore had never seen what was inside the memory; he didn't know what it was. It could be helpful or it could have nothing.

"Sir, do you know where it is now?" Harry asked finally.

"Yes, I think so, Harry. Since my death, I've spent a lot of time thinking over my past. I believe what you are looking for is one shelf up behind the gold volume."

Harry turned, looking at the shelf. There was indeed a set of golden-colored books. Harry reached up and slowly removed the books. Behind the middle one stood a dusty vial that appeared to have inhabited that shelf for some time. Harry took it down slowly, unable to believe that it was still there after so many years.

"There you go!" Dumbledore said happily. "I knew you would find it."

Harry looked up at him and felt a flare of happiness in his heart. It didn't last long, though, as he heard more noises from the portraits. The other occupants, it seemed, were beginning to wake.

"We have to get out of here," Harry said hurriedly to the other two. "Thanks, Professor."

"It was no problem, Harry," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling madly.

Hermione hastily raised her wand, and with a wave, all the books shot back onto the shelf as they had been before. With a last fleeting smile, all three ran down the stairs and out into the corridor, the door shutting behind them.

They hurried to the Gryffindor common room without a word. Harry kept the vial clutched in his hand the entire time, not daring to let it go. Through the portrait hole and up the stairs they went, ignoring the hails from Dean and Neville, who were sitting in some armchairs by the fire.

They quickly piled onto Harry's bed where he set a Locking Charm and reached into his bag for the Pensieve. As he set it on his bed, he suddenly realized what he was doing; he was showing Ron and Hermione the Pensieve.

He froze for a second as he realized. In all the entire time he had been in possession of the Pensieve, he had never shown it to them. He had guarded it like it was his dirty little secret. He was protective of the little stone basin.

Ron and Hermione were silent as Harry sat on the bed, staring unseeingly at the Pensieve. They both knew it was a rarity, what they were seeing. They were in awe as they looked at the swirling mass of memories that floated across the top of the basin. Of all the descriptions they had heard in the past, it had never quite managed to give a clear picture. Seeing it in real life was completely different.

"Harry, a-are you going to-- I mean, are we--" Hermione couldn't seem to get out what she wanted to ask. She was glancing between Harry and the Pensieve apprehensively.

"Yeah," Harry said finally. He knew the time had finally come to let them into the Pensieve.

Both Ron and Hermione looked excited at the prospect; their eyes lit up at Harry's words and they perked up, waiting anxiously. Harry eyed them for a moment, then carefully removed the vial from his pocket where he'd been clutching it tightly. Ron and Hermione scooted forward eagerly as Harry uncorked the bottle, positioning it over the top of the basin.

The memory hung in the vial for a second when Harry turned it over, and then, like a slithering snake, slid out and coiled into the Pensieve. The memory sunk quickly and the other memories in the basin began to swirl quickly.

Ron and Hermione were in awe as they watched the memories swirl in rapid succession. Harry was sure it was nothing like they had imagined. Even Hermione, who had surely read about Pensieves in books, appeared awed by what she was seeing.

Finally, the memories slowed to a stop and they found themselves looking down on a country road, very similar to the road that led to the Gaunt's house. Harry looked at it for a moment, wondering if it was really in his best interest to go into this particular, unknown memory. He looked up, though, and found himself looking into the very excited faces of Ron and Hermione and knew he couldn't let them down. He had taken them so far; to get the memory and shown them the Pensieve after many secretive months. He just couldn't disappoint them.

"Okay," he said, "let's go." He took a breath and plunged into the memory head first. Ron and Hermione exchanged an uneasy glance but took breaths and followed after Harry.

Harry landed in the middle of a country road, trees and grass bordering on each side. The vegetation was not green, though, more of a yellowish color reminiscent of late summer when all the grass would be dying on Privet Drive.

Harry looked 'round as Ron and Hermione landed beside him. They both looked a little out of sorts as they took in their surroundings.

"Where are we?" Ron asked immediately.

Harry glanced around again, noting how the path ran in front of them and then curved out of site beyond a bend. The sun was shining overhead and Harry guessed it was somewhere around mid-day. He looked to his left and nearly jumped as he caught site of a man standing almost right beside him.

The man was tall and skinny, kind of stringy-looking. He had lank hair that hung over his face like he'd been sweating. His eyes were small and they roved over the area sharply. He appeared to be making sure he was safe before continuing any further.

"Who is that?" Ron whispered, forgetting that he couldn't be heard in a memory.

"I dunno," Harry said slowly, moving closer to the man for a better look. Ron and Hermione shuffled behind, clearly afraid of getting lost or left behind.

Up close, Harry saw that the man had a shifty demeanor. He kept glancing to his left like it was a nervous tick. Harry wondered who the man was and what he was doing in the midst of the country lane, looking like he had nothing better to do.

The man turned suddenly and set off at a brisk pace down the road. Harry beckoned the others forward and they followed quickly.

"Where are we going?" Hermione panted as she tried to keep up. The man was setting quite a hasty pace as they marched down the lane.

"I don't know," Harry said impatiently, breaking into a jog to keep up with the man. "This is a memory, remember? Not my memory."

They followed the man as he went down the road and past the curve in the lane, down past another grove of green trees and yellowing grass. Harry was looking around and wondering if maybe this was where the Gaunt's house was.

They passed a small sign at the end of the road, where it forked off in two directions. As Harry looked at the sign, it appeared blurred, like it wasn't part of the memory. Instead of stopping, as Harry had suspected, the man just took a sharp left and continued on.

Ron and Hermione were lagging behind as the man continued his strenuous pace. Harry struggled to keep up as the man strode purposefully down the new path. They went on like this for some time; the afternoon sun beat down on their sweat-beaten brows as they followed the man.

At once, the man came to a stop. It was so sudden that Harry accidentally walked through him. He backed up, though, and looked around at where they had stopped. 

They were in a wooded clearing and in front of them stood the Gaunt House, as old and decrepit as ever. The snake on the door remained hammered there in an unceremonious manner. Behind him, Hermione let out a small noise of amazement.

Harry wondered what they were doing here and hardly noticed as the man crept forward, sneaking through the tall dead grass that snaked over the front steps and side of the house. He didn't notice until Ron poked him in the side and motioned to where the man was now peering carefully in a dark and grimy window.

Harry moved quickly behind him, Ron and Hermione following closely. They also pressed their faces against the window, stepping right through the man. Inside, Harry could see that the house was dimly lit despite the bright sun outside.

In the single room, there was only one man. He was sitting in the armchair and looked almost thoughtful. Harry squinted to get a better look at the man. He couldn't see him very well due to the shadows that fell across his face.

"Snape," the man called. His voice was higher than normal but otherwise seemed normal. 

Harry gasped as, out of the shadows, his former Potions professor emerged. His hair was as greasy as usual and his posture hunched as he had been in his teen years. In fact, he didn't look much older than a teenager, perhaps just out of Hogwarts.

"Yes?" Snape replied, coming to face the man in the chair.

"Is it clear?"

"Yes, my Lord," Snape said quickly, apparently eager to please. "There's no one at the house beside the old gardener. He has bad hearing and a simple charm could be put on him to prevent anything happening."

Voldemort paused, bringing a long finger up to his chin and tapping it thoughtfully. He shifted and pushed himself out of the chair. Harry was taken aback to see that his face was pale and thin; his eyes were in the process of becoming slits of scarlet but had not quite reached that stage. He wasn't quite the Voldemort Harry remembered, nor was he Tom Riddle.

Beside him, Hermione let out a small gasp, then clapped her hand over her mouth, forgetting she couldn't be heard inside a memory. Harry paid her no mind, though, and went back to listening at the window. The man beside him didn't stir, only listened intently.

"Very good," Voldemort said, his voice alight with cruel amusement now. "You have done well for a first-timer."

"Thank you, my Lord," Snape said, bowing low, and Harry felt a clench in his stomach as he watched him. He wanted to run in there and curse the man into oblivion. He couldn't, though, and was forced to watch as he glowed under Voldemort's praise.

"You may leave," Voldemort directed him. "This has been very instructive."

Snape merely smirked at the obvious compliment and backed out of the door. The man at Harry's side crept around to view the front door where Snape emerged. Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed carefully. They saw Snape come out of the front door, the smirk still on his face. It soon turned to a scowl as he moved further away from the house.

"Instructive, indeed," Harry heard Snape mutter under his breath as he strode away from the house, vanishing in a pop at the end of the lane.

Harry turned back to Ron and Hermione, who shrugged. They didn't know what that meant at all. 

Apparently the memory was not over because the man in front of Harry turned and slowly crept back to the window, peering in once more at Voldemort. Voldemort looked all around him for a second then, deciding he was truly alone, Apparated away with a pop.

Harry was in shock for a moment. Where did he go? Why did Dumbledore think this such an important memory if this was it? Granted, Dumbledore had never seen the memory, but he had still remained convinced of its holding something important.

Harry was beginning to think that Dumbledore had really lost it when he felt himself floating and a white mist came around him. He figured the memory was over and that he was merely returning to the present. Instead, though, he landed on another street. 

This one ran right past a large manor that towered over the town below it. The sloping lawns were well cared for and the flower gardens were alive with color despite it being late summer. Ron and Hermione beside him looked confused and disoriented as they looked around them.

Harry glanced to his side and saw the same man as before. He stood looking up at the house. Harry looked up also and realized that he recognized it. He had only seen it from afar and once in a dream, but he knew where he was. He glanced down to the town below the hill and could see, from a distance, the outline of a church with its steeple and the outline of headstones that spread out from the back door.

Harry gave an involuntary shudder and looked away. Hermione looked at him closely, almost suspiciously.

"You know where we are," she said suddenly. It wasn't a question anymore.

Harry nodded. "Yeah. We're in Little Hangleton."

"Where?" Ron asked, confused. He was looking around him skeptically as though he didn't understand why they were there.

Harry pointed and motioned with his head up at the house. "That's Voldemort's dad's house."

"Oh," Ron said in a comprehending voice, staring up at the manor.

"Harry, there he goes!" Hermione cried suddenly, pointing at the man they were with. He had begun to climb the hill, keeping as close to the ground as possible. Harry, Ron, and Hermione trudged after him, not bothering to stay hidden as they climbed the hill.

They finally made it to the top of the hill and the man pulled himself to his feet, moving stealthily around the edge of the house. Harry followed him, wondering where he was going and why he was so intent on spying on Voldemort. 

They moved all the way around the house to the back door. Here, the man paused then cautiously pushed open the door. He went quietly inside, Harry, Ron, and Hermione piling after him, and shut the door.

The man moved up the staircase and down a long hallway to a room at the end. He stopped just before the door to the last room. He pressed his ear against it, as did Harry. Ron and Hermione lingered back, unsure of what to do.

Harry heard a rattling noise coming from the room. It got louder, and, over the noise, he heard words. It sounded like Latin so he was unable to understand. There was a sudden crack that caused Harry to jump back from the door. Ron and Hermione both squeaked and leapt off the floor a bit. But the man at the door didn't react, keeping his ear pressed to it.

Harry heard more words, more whispered spells, until they finally ceased and all was silent. Harry desperately wanted to see into the room but knew it was no use. The man at the door had pulled back and was glancing around surreptitiously.

Harry didn't get any more chance to listen to what might or might not be happening in the room within. The man had turned and was quickly retreating down the staircase, eager to leave the house; Harry could see why.

They made it outside and Harry almost felt blinded by the bright sunlight. He held up a hand to shield his eyes and, therefore, didn't see the small shadow that swooped down upon the man.

Hermione's scream brought his hand down as he looked around in terror, fearful that something had gone wrong in the memory. What he saw instead, was a shock.

The man they had been following was lying motionless on the ground and a small, hunched man stooped over him, wand in hand.

"Can't have you seeing that, now, can we?" the little man muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

Harry watched in disbelieved shock as the man pressed the tip of his wand to the dead man's forehead, pulling it away seconds later. A long, thin, silvery strand of memory was now attached it. The man placed the wand to his own temple and Harry was amazed to see that the memory was absorbed into the man's head.

The little man stood up, glancing down carelessly at the body. With a wave of his wand, it was gone, leaving only the dusty road behind. The man looked around carefully then straightened his robes.

"Nosey spies. Don't know when to stop. They get themselves killed this way," the man muttered. "Best hope this memory never goes astray. The _Lord_ would not be pleased." The man said the word lord with a sort of contemptuousness that made Harry wonder whose side this man was really on.

The little man then turned and started to walk away. Ron and Hermione made to follow him but stopped as they realized Harry wasn't with them.

"Aren't we going?" Ron asked him.

"No," Harry said simply. He looked around him and saw the gathering white mist and knew he would soon be back on his bed.

Sure enough, the next time he opened his eyes, he was back in his four-poster, looking at Ron and Hermione. They both seemed confused once more. Harry looked down in the Pensieve, seeing only the empty road they had just left.

"Whoa," Ron said finally. To Harry, it seemed just about the only appropriate word to describe it at the moment.

They sat there on the bed for a moment, no one saying anything. They were all too busy digesting what they had just seen. Harry heard the door to the dormitory open and slam shut. He hastily grabbed the Pensieve and shoved it back in his bag. He opened the hangings to see Dean walking slowly across the room. He didn't look good.

"Dean?" Harry asked.

Dean looked over at him, his face blank and his eyes red. Hermione got up off the bed and moved over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder gently.

"What's wrong?" she asked, her voice full of concern.

"It's Seamus," Dean said in a hollow, dead voice. "He's dead."

No one spoke as the words spiraled horribly around them. At length, Dean shrugged off Hermione's hand and continued sluggishly to his bed, climbing onto it and wrenching the hangings shut. Harry heard a whispered spell and heard no more from Dean that night.

 

~~**~~

_  
A/N: Just realized it had been a month since updating. NaNoWriMo kind of took over my life and finals start next week so... apologies? :) Please review!_


	27. Horcrux Hunt

*

The news of Seamus' death spread like wildfire over the school. For once, the attention from Harry's unusual presence was diminished. It was, instead, dedicated to discussions of Seamus. It had been in the _Daily Prophet_ the next morning with a few details of what had happened. Words like "gruesome", "regrettable", and "blood-stained" stuck in Harry's mind.

He had to endure the discussions that circled everywhere he went the next day. Not that he went many places, just to the Great Hall for meals. He felt a sense of deep regret for never truly making up with Seamus the last year. They had been better near the end, but not truly friends again.

Harry wanted to grieve for Seamus, but he also felt like they needed to get a move on the Horcruxes. He felt bad for wanting to move on so quickly, but he knew that the sooner he destroyed the Horcruxes and Voldemort, the sooner they wouldn't have to suffer through news of deaths like these.

If Harry felt guilty, he could only imagine how Dean must feel. Dean had not come out of the dorm for two days since he'd told them. Hermione, concerned for his well-being, brought him food everyday, slipping it through his hangings. Harry wondered why it had affected him so much. Yes, Seamus had been his best friend, but Harry wondered if there wasn't something more going on.

He didn't have time to ponder the worries of Dean, though, as he felt an increasingly pressing need to quit the castle and find out what Voldemort had done in that room at the Riddle House. It had been bothering him ever since they had left the memory.

There were so many unanswered questions that it posed. What had Voldemort done in that room? Harry's most avidly supported idea was that he had hidden a Horcrux there. He was extremely interested to see if he was correct. Why had Snape sounded so bitter when he'd left Voldemort in the Gaunt House? Harry thought he was one of Voldemort's most loyal followers. He had killed Dumbledore after all.

Harry knew he ought to be showing a little more sympathy towards Seamus' death, but he was just so impatient to leave so he could finish it all. He knew how it must look to people who didn't understand. "Oh, that Harry Potter, doesn't care about anyone but himself. His dorm mate dies and all he wants to do is leave."

Harry heard a few of these whisperings during the next few days whenever he dared venture out of the dorm. He tried his best to ignore them, knowing the real truth. He only wished the rest of the school understood, but he knew he couldn't tell them.

Three days after the news of Seamus' death, Harry approached Ron and Hermione in the common room. They were sitting in silence by the fireplace, Ron munching on the Chocolate Frogs that Neville had given him.

Harry sat down in the third chair and glanced out the window. Outside, the sky was dark and Harry could feel a cold draft coming in. The weather was turning colder as they lingered at Hogwarts; September had already passed into October during their time there.

"Hermione, Ron," Harry said, turning away from the window and facing them, "I think we need to go."

Ron and Hermione were silent for a moment. Hermione appeared to be thinking it over while Ron waited for the conclusion. Harry waited in apprehension, hoping Hermione would agree with him, and, if she didn't, he was going to leave anyway. He couldn't just sit around and wait for Voldemort to attack him or kill Draco.

Finally, Hermione leaned forward, as did Ron, and said to Harry in a low voice, "Are we going to go to that house?"

"I think we have to," Harry sighed. "It seems the most likely place. I'd rather not, but I doubt we have any choice."

"You think the _Horcrux_ ," Ron whispered, "is there?"

"Sounded like it, didn't it?" Harry asked in a resigned voice. Ron nodded and sat back again.

"But, Harry," Hermione injected, "it's not very safe to go there, is it? I mean, it was where V-Voldemort hid during the Triwizard Tournament."

"Yeah, but the Ministry knows about it now; Dumbledore told them. I doubt he'd go back when they’re probably watching it."

"But doesn't that mean that they would be watching us, too?" Ron asked suddenly.

Harry paused. Yes, that was probably true. How would they get into the house without alerting the Ministry of their presence? Surely, they would want to know what they were doing there. The Ministry wasn't exactly prone to siding with Harry since he had refused the help them the year previously. Harry was sure they wouldn't want to help him if he couldn't tell them what he was doing.

"Is there any way around that?" Harry asked Hermione hopelessly. He couldn't see how they could sneak around a horde of Aurors.

"Well..." Hermione said thoughtfully, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. "I guess it depends."

"On what?" Ron asked.

"On who’s doing the guarding," she said with a significant glance.

Harry was confused for a moment, and then realization hit him. " _Oh_."

"What? Who?" Ron asked, confused.

Harry and Hermione merely exchanged a half-amused, half-exasperated look. "If it's a member of the Order, we'd probably be able to get in," Hermione explained.

"Oh!" Ron said, finally cottoning on. "So if it's like Tonks or someone, they could get us in without questions!"

"Maybe," Hermione said seriously. "But we don't know. If there's no one from the Order there, we could be in serious trouble."

The flare of hope that had surfaced when the idea of an Order member had come up died suddenly. Harry thought again how hopeless it would be to try to get into an Auror-guarded house. In the end, though, he knew there was really no choice.

"We have to go," he said resignedly. "It doesn't matter if there's a million Aurors and Death Eaters, we have to get in there and find that Horcrux."

Neither Ron nor Hermione argued with him. Despite all their reservations and fear of what that house held, they knew Harry was right. The only way to end the war once and for all was to destroy all the Horcruxes.

They reluctantly agreed that they had to leave the castle and all its safety. That night, they retreated to their respective dormitories to pack their things and get ready to go.

As Harry was stuffing his clothes into his bag, he heard the sound of hangings being pulled back. He poked his head out of his bed and saw Dean sitting on his bed, staring resolutely at the floor. He looked in no better shape than three days ago.

"Dean?" Harry asked quietly. Dean barely reacted, just swallowed and turned his head further from Harry. "Are you okay?"

Harry knew it was a stupid question before it even left his lips. Of course he wasn't okay! His best friend had died, killed by Death Eaters, and all Harry was doing was asking about his state.

Harry didn't know what to say, feeling incredibly stupid and unequipped to help Dean handle his grief. Instead, he fell into silence and resumed packing his bag. Dean looked up at length and watched Harry stuff shirts into his bag, shrinking them to make them fit.

"You're leaving?"

Dean's voice broke the silence of the room and Harry was surprised. His voice was low and void of emotion. Harry looked over at him and paused.

"Yeah," he said finally. He knew he would have had to tell Dean and Neville. He couldn't just disappear; they would wonder.

Dean said nothing again and Harry went back to his bag, double-checking everything. He was in the process of counting how many clean shirts he had when Dean spoke again.

"Harry," he said, "kill that bastard."

Harry looked up sharply. He'd never heard Dean sound so angry and dejected.

"What?" he asked, sure he had heard wrong, or that it hadn't been Dean who had spoken.

Dean looked up, a fire blazing in his eyes. "Kill him. He deserves to die. I want you to kill him, Harry. I know you can. I know people say you're just an attention-seeking teenager, desperate for recognition, but they're wrong. I trust you, Harry. I know you'll do it. Please, for Seamus."

Harry just stared at Dean, unable to believe what he'd just heard. He'd never heard Dean utter a mean word in his entire time of acquaintance. Some of what he said gave Harry that same desperate feeling. He knew people were counting on him, but things like that just made it all seem so much more real.

"I--" Harry said, not knowing how to respond.

Dean sighed, the fire in his eyes dying almost immediately. "Don't die, Harry," he said quietly and scooted back on his bed, wrenching the hangings shut once more, leaving Harry staring at the maroon curtains that swung in the light breeze from the window.

***

Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood in Professor McGonagall's office, facing said professor. McGonagall had fixed them with a beady stare, but they held their ground.

"You're leaving?" she asked suspiciously.

"Yes," Harry said confidently. They were leaving and she couldn't stop them.

"Where are you going?" she asked pressingly.

"The country," Harry replied evasively.

McGonagall raised a skeptical eyebrow as she looked at all three of them. Ron fidgeted under her gaze but kept his eyes on the floor as she swept past him. She walked past her desk and Harry wondered what she was doing.

She went to the cabinet on one wall and threw open the doors without a word. She rummaged around for a bit while Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged dubious looks behind her back. She finally came out with something in her hand. She came back in front of them and looked at them almost fondly.

"Well, Potter, you won't tell me and I suppose it is no longer my place to tell you what to do. My only advice is to stick to what you know and follow your instincts. They will rarely lead you astray." She glanced at Harry and held out the object in her hand. It was a ruby stone that glimmered in the light of the office. "I'm giving you this as a token. Don't forget where you come from, Potter."

Harry nodded and took the stone she offered. He slipped it into his pocket and took a step back. For a fleeting second, Harry could have sworn McGonagall gave him a flash of a sad smile but it was gone before he could look again.

"Alright then, Potter. You'd best be off," she said and ushered them towards the door. They had decided to Apparate to cause, hopefully, fewer problems.

They took their leave of the castle slowly and reluctantly. They looked around as they left; Harry thinking that, maybe the next time he had to see the castle, it would be in better spirits. Once out the oak front doors, Harry hustled the other two past the lake and down the road to the gate.

Coming upon it, he had a sudden flash of memory; Draco being shoved through it to the other side, Snape right on his tail. There was no time to reach him. He was trapped and there was no way out. Harry wanted to catch him, to save him, bring him to safety, but Snape would not allow it. Draco was lost, and Harry knew it. In that last second, Harry had seen his life flash and disappear in a crack that had echoed in his ears for months after.

Harry shook himself and forced himself to concentrate on the task at hand. They were nearly to the gate and once they reached it, were no longer in the protection of the castle. Harry felt a growing sense of dread but disregarded it, knowing there was no going back now.

He stopped just as they reached the gate and looked at the other two. "You ready?" he asked.

"No," Ron said, "but let's go."

Harry gave him a small smile and Hermione tried to look hopeful but was failing miserably. She moved around Harry and raised her wand to the lock. It glowed red for a moment and Harry heard a click. Quickly, they slid out and shut it behind them, Hermione setting the wards once more.

They hesitated for a moment, knowing they would be safe no longer. Harry took a breath and let it out resignedly. "Okay," he said. "Let's go."

In three simultaneous cracks, they Disapparated from the school. Harry concentrated hard on their destination and felt his feet hit solid ground seconds later.

He opened his eyes carefully and found himself looking up at the Riddle House on top of its large hill. He heard Ron and Hermione join him and hastily moved off to the side of the road. He didn't know if they were being watched but wanted to be safe either way.

Harry had the feeling that their arrival had been too conspicuous for his comfort. He ushered them to the edge and pulled out his Invisibility Cloak and threw it over the three of them. It was much more difficult to cover them all now, given that they all had grown precipitously since they had all been able to use it.

Harry backed further into the bush, knowing their coming couldn't have been unnoticed. He didn't like the odd silence of the grass and trees around him. He, Ron, and Hermione stood still and Harry had the sneaking suspicion that they weren't alone.

Sure enough, there was a small crack behind him: the sound of a twig being stepped on. Underneath the cloak, Hermione let out a small gasp and Harry quickly trod on her foot in an effort to silence her. They all turned toward the sound, backing up slowly and carefully as they did so.

Harry couldn't see anything, no sight of a person. He could feel his heart rate increasing as they continued to back out onto the road. He stumbled a little on a hidden root behind him and, at once, felt himself seized by a pair of strong hands.

The cloak was ripped from their heads and thrown to the side haphazardly. Harry stared wildly around him, still unable to see anyone; they must have been invisible, he surmised.

"Harry!" A deep, rich voice came from the air in front of Harry and he felt himself released.

In a second of wild deliberation, Harry stumbled back, trying to force his legs to work and run. He saw a flurry of movement and, in a moment, a man materialized in front of him.

"Kingsley!" Harry cried in surprise.

"Shh!" He was quickly silenced by the tall black man that stood in front of him. Kingsley Shacklebolt grabbed Harry's robes, along with Ron and Hermione, and dragged them farther into the forest, away from the road. He waved his wand and, immediately, a quiet fell over them.

Kingsley turned to them, an expression of mingled surprise and worry crossing his features. "Harry, Ron, Hermione, what are you doing here?" he asked them, all the while keeping a watch around them.

"It-- I-- We..." After months of explaining his sudden appearances to people, Harry still didn't know what to say.

"Dumbledore's task, is it?" Kingsley asked briskly, taking over for Harry.

"I-- yeah," he said, surprised that Kingsley seemed so business-like about it.

"Alright, Harry," he said in his deep voice. "What do you need?"

Harry was taken aback at his unquestionable acceptance of Harry's reason. Even Ron and Hermione looked surprised that he wasn't questioning further.

"I need to get into the house," Harry said quickly, seizing the opportunity while he could. "And we'll need some time alone in there, no disturbances. It would probably be best if no one knew we were there. I don't think Scrimgeour would be too pleased to know we were poking around in Voldemort's old hide-out."

Kingsley looked thoughtful for a moment. "You have got a point. I'm sure some of my colleagues are in his pocket and would let him know immediately. I might be able to help you here."

"That would be great," Harry said, feeling relieved. It would be nice to know that the entire task would not be an incredible difficulty. 

"Are you on duty?" Ron asked interestedly.

"For the Ministry, yes," Kingsley replied. "But the Order has some interest in this as well. It's in both their interests."

Ron didn't question Kingsley any further and Harry engaged him in discussion about how they would get into the house. Half an hour later, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were once again under the Invisibility Cloak and creeping up to the back door of the Riddle House.

Kingsley had gone to find the other Aurors stationed around the house and distract them momentarily. Harry praised his good luck as they made it to the house unscathed and unspotted. They opened the creaky back door just as the man in the memory had done.

Once inside, they didn't dare to take off the Cloak as they climbed the dust-covered stairs to the first floor landing. Harry didn't like the feel of the house as he climbed; it felt like the darkness was pressing in upon them, like it was aware they were intruders.

Uneasily, they made it up the stairs and went down a dark hallway to their left. At the end of it, Harry finally allowed the removal of his cloak. He stuffed it back into his bag and exchanged a glance with Ron and Hermione.

"This is it," he said, his voice trembling just slightly. He almost didn't want to know what was on the other side of the door. He knew it couldn't be good. The air of the house told him so.

Ron looked apprehensive as Harry placed a hand on the door and pushed. When nothing happened, Ron peeked in cautiously along with Harry and Hermione.

Inside the room was a single armchair that stood on a hearth rug before the empty fire grate. The walls were grey and the entire room seemed lifeless. They moved inside it carefully, jumping slightly as the door shut with a snap.

The room seemed very ominous and dark as they stood in the middle, silent for the moment. Harry was thinking how the room never seemed to change. It was the same in dreams, memories, everything.

"Now what?" Ron asked dubiously, glancing around the room like the Horcrux might pop out of thin air and into their hands.

"Now, we find out what's in here."

It was a fairly plain room and, if it was as Harry suspected, the Horcrux must be hidden by magic. He glanced at the fireplace for a moment but disregarded the idea almost as quickly. Voldemort surely wouldn't use the same trick twice. That would be far too low, even for him.

Hermione and Ron were prowling the perimeter of the room, feeling blindly with their hands like they might come upon a magically concealed place. Harry thought it was useless. Even if he did know how to sense magic, it would be difficult to discover how to uncover it.

Harry had gone all around the room and found absolutely nothing. He just knew the Horcrux was there, though; he was sure of it!

On the other side of the room, Ron gave a heavy sigh and made for the armchair that stood in the middle of the room. He started to sit down but Harry stopped him.

"I wouldn't sit there if I were you," he said warningly and Ron stopped midway in lowering himself into the chair.

"Why not?" he asked naively.

"Voldemort sat there," Harry said simply.

Ron gave a yelp and leapt away from the chair. He backed away, now giving it a wide berth. He was not keen on coming near anything Voldemort may have touched.

"Wait," Hermione said slowly, speaking for the first time in a while, "Harry, is that armchair always in the same spot?"

"I think so," Harry said. "Why?"

Hermione shook her head for a second and walked closer to the chair, looking at it closely. The rug underneath it was a dark red color but so filthy it was difficult to tell. Under the rug, the floor was an old hardwood, graying from its many years of use.

"Hermione?" Harry asked cautiously as she crouched down and fingered the dirty rug.

She looked up at him, a determined expression on her face. "Did you ever read any Poe before you came to Hogwarts?" she asked him.

"You mean Edgar Allan Poe, the poet?" Harry asked, confused how this related at all.

"Oh yeah," Ron said brightly, momentarily forgetting about the chair. "Poe is a great wizard poet. Muggles never knew he wasn't one of them!"

"He was a wizard?" Harry asked, amazed.

"Sure." Ron shrugged. "You didn't think all that stuff he wrote was made up? No! A lot of it was true back when there weren't laws about murder."

Harry was incredibly surprised at this revelation but was still unsure as to how it related to the situation. "So what about him?"

"Poe was a greatly revered poet in both wizard and Muggle societies,” Hermione said. “Voldemort was drawn to powerful figures. Poe had a lot of influence on those around him. I would imagine Poe would be something of an inspiration for him. The way his poetry and stories are so dark, full of regretless killings, I'm willing to bet that Voldemort looked to him as a model."

"He used a mad poet to tell him to kill innocent people?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Not to tell him what to do, just that he liked the way it was done in the stories, the way they were written."

"Okay, so what does this have to do with anything?" Harry asked impatiently.

"Well," Hermione said slowly, still looking at the floor intently, "one of Poe's most famous works was _The Tell-Tale Heart_ where a man was murdered and his body hidden underneath the floorboards. If Voldemort envied him as much as I think, it's possible that he would be particularly interested in that gruesome tale and that the Horcrux is right there."

Harry and Ron looked down Hermione's finger to where she was pointing to the armchair. Harry moved closer to it, half-expecting the thumping of a dead heart to sound at any moment. When none such thing happened, he turned to Hermione.

"You think it's under the floorboards?" he asked skeptically. He glanced once more at the old armchair and the dirty rug, wondering if Hermione had finally gone 'round the bend.

"Yes," she responded adamantly, as though insulted that he didn't agree.

"If it is, then how do we get it out?" Ron asked interestedly. He was slowly approaching the armchair once more but still remained cautious.

"I don't know," Hermione said. "Why I do I always have to be the one who figures it out?"

"Because you're all-knowing?" Ron asked brightly and when Hermione frowned, added, "And we're stupid gits."

"That's better," she agreed, and then gave him a small smile.

Harry merely rolled his eyes and walked up to the chair, grabbing it by the arm and tugging it off the rug and away next to a wall. The grimy rug was left, the indents of the chair legs remaining where they had always stood.

He reached down carefully and grabbed the end of the rug, beginning to roll it towards him. Ron hesitated but then joined at his side and helped rolling. Hermione stood anxiously above, peering down as the rug was rolled back to reveal a darker wood than the rest of the floor.

Finally, Harry and Ron finished pulling up the rug and set it into a corner. Harry came back and stared down at the floor, wondering if Hermione's theory was right and there was a Horcrux underneath it.

Hermione got to her knees on the floor, her wand out and began scouring the circle of dark wood. Harry heard her whispering fervent spells under her breath but didn't recognize any. Occasionally, she would remove the wand and press on the floor with her hand.

Finally, Harry just had to ask. "Hermione, what are you doing?"

"I'm finding the Horcrux," she said in an annoyed voice.

"It's there? Really?" Harry asked, his eyes lighting up. If they had managed to find another one, they were that much closer to destroying Voldemort.

"Yes, Harry, really," Hermione muttered distractedly, returning to her scouring of the floor.

After a few tense moments, she sat back in her knees and bit her lower lip. Then she turned to Ron and Harry seriously. "It wants payment."

Harry's mind immediately flew to the cave when Dumbledore had cut himself to pay in blood for entrance. "What kind of payment?"

"It wants something valuable... like a promise."

 

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A/N: Another update! Please review!_


	28. The Promise

*

"A promise? What does that mean?" Harry wondered how a promise would allow them to the Horcrux.

Hermione was silent for a moment, contemplating the floor. "It means we have to give it something, and a promise is the only thing we can keep."

"But what does it want us to promise?" Harry asked, feeling confused. How could they make a promise to an inanimate object?

"It wants... It wants the promise of repayment."

"Repayment? How?"

"Basically, if it allows us entrance, it wants repayment."

"But what kind?" Harry pressed, desperate to know more.

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know. It's obviously designed to trick us. But I don't see any way around it. There's no other way to get in."

"How can we promise something when we don't even know what the repayment will be?!" Harry exclaimed. "That's insane!"

"I know, Harry," Hermione sighed. "But there's no other way."

Harry didn't respond for a moment, staring intently at the floor, willing it to just open for him. He glanced at Ron beside him, who looked like he had no idea what to do. 

Ron caught his eye and shrugged. "Maybe we should just do it," he said. "It's either this or leave and give up."

Harry wasn't about to give up, not when they had come so far. "No, okay, we'll do it."

Hermione looked up at him and nodded. She moved her wand over the wooden slats, whispering a spell in Latin. All at once, Harry felt a great gust of wind whoosh around his head, blowing his hair around. But as soon as it had come, it was gone and all was still.

"What was that?" Ron asked, sounding nervous. Harry saw that he didn't look comfortable, his eyes darting everywhere.

"The promise," Hermione explained. "I hope it worked."

Just as she said that, the board in the middle of the circle popped up just a hair. Harry hesitated then reached over and pried it all the way off. All three leaned forward carefully, craning their necks to see what was underneath.

Harry saw that it looked just like his crevice in the loose floorboard under his bed at the Dursleys'. The space was about a foot long, six inches wide, and five inches deep. On first glance, Harry thought that the cubby hole was empty.

He felt a sinking sensation in his stomach as he looked at the empty hole. There was no Horcrux. He reached out a hand to put into the space in the floorboards but was stopped by Hermione.

"Harry, no!" she cried, pulling his hand away from the hole.

He gave her a quizzical look. "What? It's empty. There's nothing here." He immediately berated himself for bringing Ron and Hermione to this house. They had wasted so much time! And there wasn't even a Horcrux.

Hermione was shaking her head forebodingly. "No, Harry, there's something here."

"Where?" he asked, wondering what she was seeing.

"In there, of course," she said, regaining her normal, brisker tone. She indicated the empty space in the floor and Harry had to disagree.

"But there's nothing!"

"Oh, Harry," she sighed impatiently. "You think Voldemort would just leave his Horcruxes lying around in plain daylight with just a board to protect them?"

Harry suddenly felt very stupid, and he looked down at his knees in shame. "No."

"No," Hermione echoed, "there have got to be more spells. I wouldn't try to touch anything just yet."

Harry withdrew his hand and placed it safely in his lap, determined to touch nothing until they were sure. Beside him, Ron stuffed his hands in between his legs just to be sure.

"Okay, well, what do we do?" Harry always felt so inadequate when it came to retrieving the Horcruxes. He was always asking what to do instead of knowing already.

"Didn't you say before it was all about fears?" Ron asked suddenly and Hermione looked at him. "What fear is this then?"

Hermione was silent for a moment, thinking hard. Then, slowly, she answered him. "Fear of the unknown."

Harry's eyebrows furrowed as he tried to tie everything together. "Wait, explain all the fears again."

"The first was the locket: a fear of darkness. Then there was Ravenclaw's wand: a fear of fire. A piece of his soul was in the diary which could have been a fear of knowledge. Obviously, the piece in the snake is a fear of snakes. And in Voldemort himself, it's a fear of power. This Horcrux is a fear of the unknown and the ring... Well, we don't know since we don't know how Dumbledore got it."

Harry was silent as it all settled in. He knew Voldemort was smart and had probably thought these through thoroughly. He never imagined so much work would go into just hiding a Horcrux.

"So the promise?" Harry asked. "That was part of the fear? We have to promise some unknown fate and then find the Horcrux when we don't even know how."

"Ingenious, isn't it?" Hermione asked grudgingly, like she thought Voldemort had no right to be so intelligent, what with the way he used it.

"But that doesn't help us find it," Harry said pressingly. "It could be anywhere!"

"No, Harry," Hermione said, exasperated. "It's right there, we just have to figure out how to get it."

Harry glanced at the still-empty space under the board and wondered how they would do that. Since it was obvious that they wouldn't find out any time soon how it was guarded, it was up to them to reveal it.

"Could we try just Summoning it or something?" Ron asked, looking at Hermione.

Hermione glanced at Harry, who was sitting stoically still, then back to Ron. "Sure, why not?"

Ron took out his wand and cleared his throat. " _Accio Horcrux!_

Harry was forcibly reminded of when he had done the exact same thing only months before. He had no doubt that it wouldn't be successful.

He was right but was scared out of his wits when a bolt of lightning ripped through the room, crashing down just feet from Harry's hand. Harry jumped up from his spot on the ground and hastily scrambled to the other side of the circle.

"What the fuck was that?!" he exclaimed, staring at the charred floor where the bolt had struck.

"A warning," Hermione said seriously. "I don't think it's very pleased."

"Of course not! It just tried to kill me!"

Hermione sighed and raised her hands to her forehead, massaging her temples. Harry and Ron sighed also, wishing there was an easier way to do this. Why did it have to be so difficult?

Hermione looked up from her hands and looked at the empty space contemplatively. "I think we should test it." Ron and Harry had no idea what she was talking about and so said nothing. She took out her wand and gave it a wave. A wooden stick materialized in the middle of the room. Using her wand, she guided it over the space beneath the floorboards. She brought it down with the intention of tapping the bottom of the space.

As soon as the stick neared the space, Hermione found it harder to press it down. She forced it, though, and moved it slowly down towards the spot. Just at the point where the original wooden slat had been, the stick gave a shudder and cracked down the middle, splitting off and then bursting into millions of shards.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione shielded their eyes hastily as the wooden pieces flew everywhere. When they lowered them, they stared in despair at the hole in the floor.

"Great," Harry said unenthusiastically, "just great."

"Well," Hermione said tentatively. "I don't think we should reach in and try to get it that way."

Harry gave her such a look that even she colored slightly. "No, really?" he drawled. He was getting sick of these unsolvable puzzles. He just needed to get the Horcrux, destroy it and continue searching for Draco.

As he sat, guarded now behind Hermione, the snake on his bracelet gave a particularly violent hiss and he glared at it. "~~Shut up~~" he hissed quietly in Parseltongue.

Ron and Hermione both gave him an odd look but didn't comment on it, though Harry missed the look they exchanged. Ron gave Hermione a significant look and Hermione shrugged slightly.

The snake quieted down but began to circle in an agitated manner around his wrist. Harry didn't like the way it looked as it slithered quickly and nervously around its silver band.

He couldn't be bothered at the moment by an increasingly odd snake, though, and forced his thoughts back to the Horcrux hidden in the crevice before him.

"Wait a minute," Ron said suddenly, "what's that at the bottom?"

Hermione and Harry leaned forward, careful not to touch any part of the hole, and peered inside. Sitting in the very bottom of the space was a gold, glittering coin. Against the grey interior of the hole, it glimmered tantalizingly.

"Is that a Galleon?" Harry asked, extremely confused. Why would there be money where a Horcrux was hidden?

"Yes, it is," Hermione said perplexedly. 

"What's it doing there?" Ron asked.

Hermione was silent again for several moments before answering. "It's greed."

"Huh?"

"Greed," she repeated. "Voldemort never planned to come back for his Horcruxes unless at his utmost need. If he came back for this particular one, he would need someone with him. And we all know he doesn’t trust anyone, so he couldn't tell them why they were here or what they were doing. If they did, they would never resort to getting it for him, knowing his tricks. This is the only way. One of the mortal's greatest weaknesses is greed. Even Voldemort understands that. His greed got the best of him before so he knows it will work with other people. By placing a Galleon at the bottom of the hole, a person would automatically reach in and take it. This would trigger something and allow Voldemort to get the Horcrux for himself. This whole thing is about greed. I don't know why I didn't see it before. He was greedy of Poe's work, and therefore used it to guard something important to him. The promise is greedy by forcing us into an unknown agreement. It's so obvious."

"Wow," was all Ron said and that about summed it up. Harry was increasingly amazed at how smart Hermione could be at times. He knew he would have failed long ago had it not been for her.

"Hermione, how do you come up with this?" he asked incredulously.

Hermione just shrugged. "I don't know. It just makes sense, doesn't it?"

"Sure," Harry agreed, sharing a glance with Ron that clearly said that it only made sense to her. "Well, how do we get it out?" he asked at length.

No one said anything for several moments, each staring at the shimmering coin in the floor. Harry didn't know a way to get it without dying a horribly painful death and he didn't wish that upon himself.

"I'll do it," Ron said suddenly and began reaching for the coin.

"Ron, NO!" Harry shouted lunging for his arm and pulling it back at the last second.

Ron pulled it away, frowning at Harry. "Harry, we told you we'd help you, and I will. Let me do this. I want you to finish this. You said you didn't want us to get hurt, well, you can't guarantee that. There are just some things that will happen in life and it's not your fault."

Harry just stared at him, lost for words. How could he be saying this? It was like he was resigned already. There had to be another way. This couldn't be the only way.

"Ron, you--"

"No, Harry," Ron interrupted him, "it'll be okay. Just let me do this... for you."

Harry wanted to protest, stop him from doing the inevitable but his throat went dry as Ron started to reach for the hole in the floor once more. Hermione's eyes were wide and her hands pressed against her mouth painfully as she watched him.

Just as Ron's hand pressed against the ever-present invisible barrier, Hermione let out a small whimper. Ron swallowed hard and pressed harder, his hand slipping through and into the hole.

Harry's heart was thundering against his ribcage as he watched Ron's fingers open over the gold coin at the bottom.

"NO!" Hermione shouted finally as Ron's fingers closed on the small, golden coin.

For a second, Harry thought nothing had happened, but all of a sudden, the room was alight with white flashes and the sounds of bloodcurdling screaming. Harry wasn't sure if it was coming from Ron, Hermione or himself. 

He had leapt to his feet and was searching desperately for a way to stop it. He couldn't see anything in the flashing white of the room; it was blinding him and he stumbled unseeingly around the room.

"Ron!" He heard a frantic cry over the screaming. "RON! NO!"

Harry took a step forward and tripped, sending himself sprawling over the floor, face down. He quickly pushed himself up, blinking quickly as the room continued to be illuminated by blinding flashes of light.

The screaming continued, raising the hairs on the back of Harry's neck. He knew it couldn't be good. He heard sobbing over the screams and suddenly, it was all over.

Harry rubbed his eyes furiously, trying to get them back into focus after the seizure-like lights dissipated. The screaming had stopped and now Harry only heard agonized sobs. They were broken and ragged and he knew it was bad.

He finally got his eyes into focus and looked around the room. He had tripped over the rolled-up rug and was further from the center of the room than he remembered. He looked over to where the hole was and felt all breath leave his body.

Hermione was crouched on the floor, sobbing into the body that lay there. Her hand was clutched around Ron's protectively as she wept brokenly into his shirt. 

Harry walked forward stiffly, unable to say or do anything. He felt like his stomach had been wrenched out and cut open. He felt sick as he looked down at the scene before him.

" _Ron_ ," Hermione whispered and dissolved into new sobs, gripping Ron's hand tightly.

Harry stood awkwardly above her, unable to function normally. He didn't know what to do. This was the third death he had witnessed in the last four years. He had never wanted this. Any of it. He didn't want what this caused. He didn’t want deaths, despair; he never had.

Finally, he dropped to his knees beside Hermione and tried to pull her away from Ron's motionless body. She refused to let go, though, tightening her grip on Ron's hand and shirt, crying hopelessly.

Harry's mind was blank as he sat next to her, unable to help and not knowing what to do. Ron had been his best friend; his first friend ever and now... now, he had died, because of Harry. The thought choked Harry and made him feel like throwing up. He couldn't stomach the fact that it was his fault. Ron shouldn't have come along. Harry should have stopped him. Then none of this would have happened.

Finally, Harry made another attempt to pry Hermione from Ron. She came quite easily now, her body limp and her face stained with tears that continued to fall. She buried her face in Harry's shoulder and sobbed, unable to control herself.

He awkwardly patted her back, trying to soothe her but knowing it was no use. He didn't know what to do. He was in far too much shock and despair to know. He couldn't believe that he had lost Ron. He needed him. Without Ron, who would he hang around with, joking about random things no one cared about? Who would he make fun of Hermione with?

Hermione's sobs grew quieter as time went on. They sat for a long time on the dirty floor of the Riddle House, neither knowing what to do or how to handle it. Hermione had never faced anything like this, not like Harry had. Harry knew she needed reassurance but he didn't know how to give it.

Finally, Hermione pulled away from Harry, trying to calm herself by taking deep breaths and only shedding the last, occasional, tear. She wiped her face with her sleeve and refused to look back to where Ron's body lay.

Harry, however, knew he would have to look. They still needed to get the Horcrux regardless. If Harry knew anything, it was that Ron would be extremely disappointed if he had died in vain. He had died so that they could continue with their task and, in the end, win.

Harry left Hermione, carefully extracting himself and crawling over to the body. Ron's eyes were open and staring straight at Harry. Harry felt nervous under their strong gaze. He reached over and slowly pressed the eyelids shut, hating himself all the while.

He looked down the body and saw the hand Hermione had been clutching so desperately. Instead of the gold Galleon like Harry had suspected, it was clutched around a small, golden cup. He reached over slowly and carefully, almost fearfully, and hooked a finger around one of the golden handles and tugged it out of Ron's grasp.

He felt horrible as he pulled the cup away and the fingers reluctantly let go. He just wanted to get out of there and never think about it again, never see that house again, never hear the name Voldemort ever again.

He moved away from Ron's body and back to Hermione, who immediately clung to him once more like she was afraid he might leave her too. He let her do so and stared down at the cup in his hands.

_The repayment. It was all greed,_ Harry thought. _It wanted an exchange. For the Horcrux, it got a life, an unfair trade, but Voldemort is greedy._

Harry heard a sudden swish of a cloak and barely looked up as Kingsley Shacklebolt swept into the room. He took one look at Ron on the floor and Harry and Hermione off to the side.

"What happened?!" he asked pressingly.

Harry shook his head, unable to speak, pulled Hermione closer and a single tear fell onto his cheek, drizzling down and falling onto the grey, wooden floor of the Riddle House.

 

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A/N: Sorry I slowed down again, but I was focusing on finishing at least one. This is now my new focus. Please review!_


	29. Harry's Admission

*

Three days later found Harry and Hermione sitting in silence in Harry's bedroom at Grimmauld Place. Harry sat on his bed, knees curled up to his chin and Hermione on the floor next to the far wall, staring straight ahead.

They hadn't talked much since that day, only to communicate where they had to go. It hadn't been safe to stay in the Riddle House, and Harry hadn't wanted to anyway. With the help of Kingsley, they sneaked out and Apparated back to Grimmauld Place with Kingsley's promise that he would take care of everything.

The next day, the owl had arrived with the _Daily Prophet_ clutched in its beak, dropping it at Hermione's feet. Neither of them had opened it for fear of what it might say. Instead, they had skirted around the paper and retreated upstairs to Harry's bedroom where they had stayed since.

Harry had been scared out of his wits the day after when Mrs. Weasley had come bursting into the room in tears. She had rushed over to him and taken him into a bone-crushing hug. He could barely breathe as she squeezed him. He thought his ribs might be breaking from the pressure.

She had finally released him and asked him if it was true. Harry hadn't been sure what she meant since he hadn't read the paper. She told him the _Prophet_ reported that Ron had died in a scuffle with Death Eaters.

Harry had then had the unfortunate business of telling her that it wasn't so, that he had died while with him and Hermione. It was then that Mrs. Weasley had noticed Hermione curled up in a corner. She had gone straight over to her and pulled her into a much gentler hug than she had Harry.

Harry hadn't been surprised to see Hermione break down once more and start crying all over again. It had been happening off and on for the past few days, triggered by the smallest things.

She and Mrs. Weasley sat together for some time, grieving. At length, Mrs. Weasley had risen and turned to Harry, while wiping away a lasting tear, and told him she didn't blame him at all. It had been Ron’s decision and she was glad he could have chosen.

That, if anything, had made Harry feel even worse and he barely spoke as she left them. He'd been thinking about it for days. Ron wouldn’t have come if it had been anybody else, but it had been Harry. He had trusted Harry and Harry had failed him. He hadn't been able to protect him or save him.

It was like Draco all over again. He could have saved him but he didn't. The thought of Draco twisted his stomach. He had never told Ron about him. Ron had been his best friend and he couldn't even trust him enough to tell him why they had gone for those Horcruxes so quickly. Ron deserved to know why Harry had been so adamant on getting the Horcruxes. Maybe if he had told him, Ron would still be here. Maybe Ron and Hermione could have stopped him from diving headfirst into this mission.

Harry felt himself slipping into a fitful doze as he sat on the bed. He had hardly slept in the past few days so it wasn't surprising. On his wrist, the green snake hissed quietly as Harry yawned and nodded down, his head falling forward onto his knees.

He woke with a start, clambering to his feet. He swung his legs off the bed and nearly fell off. He steadied himself and climbed off his four-poster and ambled into the bathroom to wash his face. He splashed the refreshingly cool water on his face.

He stood up straight and looked in the mirror, messing with his hair, trying to get it to lie flat. It was to no avail, though, and his hair remained as messy as ever. He sighed and gave it up, turning and going back into the dorm. Once he was dressed and ready, he left the Tower for breakfast, wandering aimlessly down the corridors alone.

He was about halfway down to the Great Hall when, suddenly, someone seized his arm and pulled him into an abandoned classroom. Harry was confused for just a moment until he looked around and his eyes fell of a smirking blond leaned casually up against a desk.

"Draco," Harry sighed, but smiled all the same, "you can't do that. What if someone sees someday?"

"They won't," Draco replied confidently, sauntering towards Harry. Harry saw him take out his wand and lock the door behind him.

Harry just shook his head in disbelief. "What about Ginny? Someday she's going to figure out that I don't sleep late."

"Well, then you'll just have to explain to her," Draco said in a low voice, coming ever closer, "that you prefer blokes over girls and would rather be shagging me."

Harry laughed for a moment. "I'm sure that would go over well."

Draco shrugged indifferently and continued his path toward Harry. He finally reached him and pressed Harry back against the wall of the classroom, moving his body closer. It slid perfectly into place with Harry's and Draco wrapped his arms around Harry's neck.

"Then just break up with her," Draco said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Harry sighed and leaned his forehead against Draco's. "I can't. Ron would kill me."

"Screw the Weasel," Draco said in a hot voice. "Harry, I want you, not some tag-along girlfriend."

Harry sighed again, wishing it was so simple. "Draco, I do too, but I can't. Ron would never forgive me."

"But," Draco said, tilting his head up so his lips were barely touching Harry's, "what do you need him for? You've got me." He then pressed his lips against Harry's in a soft kiss. Harry's hands came to Draco's hips, holding him lightly in place.

Draco took control of the kiss, running his tongue teasingly over Harry's lower lip. He was granted entrance to the hot caverns within and lost no time thrusting his greedy tongue inside. Harry groaned appreciatively as his mouth was plundered by Draco's talented tongue.

The tongue ran over the interior of Harry's mouth, mapping out every contour. It massaged Harry's own tongue, urging it to respond to the challenge. It was taken up eagerly and Draco moaned softly.

Finally, Draco pulled away, panting lightly and smirking at Harry. "If you won't break up with her, you'll at least meet me tonight?"

Harry grinned and pulled Draco closer once more. "I always do."

With a quick kiss, they parted. Draco stuck his head out the door, checking to make sure it was clear, and then left quickly. Harry followed soon after and watched Draco disappear down the corridor.

Draco was just to the corner when someone stepped out of the shadows, a wand in hand. Harry's eyes widened as he realized who it was and he sprinted after Draco.

He saw Ginny Weasley raise her hand with the wand and bring it down through the air, pointing straight at Draco.

"NO!" Harry shouted as the corridor was filled with a flash of green light.

Harry jerked awake, panting and sweating. He swallowed hard and saw that Hermione was standing over him, a worried expression on her face. She appeared to have been shaking him before he had woken up.

"Harry," she whispered in a scared voice, "what's wrong? Are you okay?"

He pushed himself up, hastily wiping his forehead and taking breaths to calm his thundering heart. "I'm fine," he muttered.

"No, you're not," she said, still whispering. "What is going on, Harry? Why can't you tell me?"

Harry could see that she was on the verge of tears once again as she looked at him. He knew the time had come and he couldn't bear to do it. He had kept it a secret for so long. It seemed almost pointless to tell her after all that had happened. She would surely kill him. It had, after all, been the reason for Ron's death, or so Harry believed.

"Hermione," Harry said then paused. He had no idea how to tell her. What was he supposed to say? That he had led them searching for Horcruxes, knowing it could only end in grief and all for the boy who had made their lives a living hell for the past six years?

"What, Harry?" she asked pressingly and he knew he couldn't lie. He had to do it now.

"I-- There's something I need to tell you."

Hermione gave him an uncomprehending look and he scooted over, motioning that she should join him on the bed. She climbed on slowly, all the while searching his face.

"What is it?"

"You know when I cursed Malfoy last year, in the bathroom?" Harry asked and she nodded slowly. "Well, I didn't mean to and I--it-- something changed. I went to visit him that night and I realized what I'd done wrong. Hermione, I never meant to do it, I didn't want to hurt anyone! It just kind of happened, and I couldn't tell anyone. Ginny didn't know and I couldn’t tell Ron. He would have killed me. I just-- Hermione, believe me, I didn't want-- He’s just so-- It's all my fault."

Hermione was looking at Harry with an expression of puzzled confusion. "What?" she asked finally, not understanding at all.

"Hermione, I--" He buried his face in his hands, trying to force himself to say it. "I fell in love with Draco Malfoy."

"You-- you _what_?" she whispered, though she had heard quite clearly.

"I know!" Harry exclaimed, his words muffled by his hands. "And he kept his promise! He didn't kill him! I can't believe-- I let him go! Snape took him away and now I don't know where he is and... I just don't know, Hermione. I need him."

Hermione was silent as she stared at Harry, who was still burying his face in his hands. Her expression was blank as her mind worked furiously. 

"So... so you and Malfoy were... together?" she asked like she couldn't believe it.

"Yes," Harry answered reluctantly. "He's out there somewhere. He's not safe. The stupid snake keeps telling me. I'm worried, Hermione. What if he dies? Then it's all my fault! I could have stopped him!"

"What snake? And why would it be your fault?" Hermione asked, confused.

"This one," Harry said, raising up the bracelet on his wrist. The tiny green snake hissed at Hermione and continued its agitated circling. "It's my fault because I could have stopped him after Dumbledore died but Snape was pulling him away and-- I couldn't reach him. I should have tried harder."

“Malfoy was there?"

"He was supposed to..." Harry trailed off, not wanting to tell her the full extent of what Draco's involvement in Dumbledore's death had been. She would never accept him if he did. But he also knew she would never trust him unless he told her all. "He was supposed to be the one to kill Dumbledore, but he promised me he wouldn't; he didn't! Snape did it instead. But then Snape dragged him away and I couldn't catch them. By the time I got close enough, they were already gone. Hermione, I just don't know anymore. I'm so sorry! This would have never happened if I had just told you earlier! Ron might still be--" He cut himself off and forced himself to change the direction. "I didn't want to disappoint you. I know it's my fault. I should be able to stop this."

Hermione just stared at Harry and he looked away, not wanting to see the disappointment in her eyes. He propped his chin on his knee and stared intently at the wall, determined not to look back.

"Harry," Hermione asked seriously, “do you love him?"

Harry froze for a second and said nothing. Then, turning back slowly to face her, blinking back tears, he whispered, "Yes… yes! And he's out there somewhere in danger. This should have never happened."

"Don't blame yourself, Harry," Hermione said suddenly and sternly and he was taken aback. "You can't control other people's actions. You just have to trust that it's going to be okay."

"Hermione, what are you saying?"

"Harry, Ron didn't want to die in vain. I'm sure Malfoy didn't want to leave you. But that doesn't mean you should blame yourself for what happened. It won't help anything!"

"But... you're not mad?" Harry asked, completely unable to believe what he was hearing.

"Mad about what? That you finally found someone who makes you happy and then he was taken away? No, Harry, despite what you may think, I care more about you as a person than what you're doing and with whom."

"Oh, Hermione," Harry said, "I can't believe you. I am possibly the stupidest person in the world, and you're still my friend."

"Yeah, well, someone's gotta do it," she said, giving him a small smile.

Harry sighed, feeling like a huge weight had been lifted from his chest. Knowing that Hermione accepted him for who he was felt amazing. He was almost free from the confines of his Golden Boy status.

"I am so glad, Hermione, you have no idea," he said finally.

She smiled sadly at him. "Well, I'm happy you could tell me. But, Harry, have you thought about the future?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, after we get rid of this Horcrux, there's still two left; the snake and Voldemort. How are you going to kill them?"

"I don't know," he said hopelessly. "I'm just hoping it will somehow work itself out."

Hermione nodded but frowned all the same. "I've been thinking... about the cup, how to destroy it," she said tentatively.

"Yeah?"

"It's gold, like the locket. Gold is easily molded and melts at lower temperatures. Maybe we could melt it."

"You don't think it has protective spells against that?"

"Not likely. A Founder's object would never be imagined to be destroyed. A Founder would assume someone would want the object for its powers. They wouldn't want to destroy it, so why bother putting protective spells on it?"

"Good point."

"I say we try to melt it and hope that it works. I'm really out of ideas. Voldemort had to have spent a long time thinking up these Horcruxes."

"I bet he did," Harry muttered mutinously. "But let's try. It just might work. Everyone has a weakness, everything does."

Hermione nodded and took out her wand, conjuring a pot and a small fire. Harry reached over and retrieved his bag, pulling out the small, golden cup. He handed it to Hermione, who placed it at the bottom of the cauldron and set the melting temperature higher.

They waited a few moments until the gold began to sizzle as it slowly melted into the bottom of the pot. The liquid metal bubbled and sizzled, and the cup slowly melted down. The wrought handles went first, sliding off slowly and plopping to the bottom of the cauldron.

Harry grew increasingly anxious as the bottom of the cup bubbled and frothed. He heard a hissing noise from the pan and a jet of steam shot up. Hermione was watching the top of the pot carefully as she poked the fire with her wand, making it even hotter.

Harry peered into the cauldron and watched as the gold sizzled against the hot metal, melting lower and lower. Finally, Harry heard an almighty hiss and the familiar shadow of a skull appeared out the top of the cauldron.

He and Hermione watched as the skull vanished in a small puff of grey smoke. They leaned over the cauldron, seeing that the cup had melted into a puddle of gold at the bottom. Hermione removed her wand and the fire went out.

"It worked," Harry said simply.

"Yes, obviously Voldemort never dreamed people would destroy a Founder's object, neither did the Founders themselves."

"We were lucky, then."

"Very." Hermione picked up the pot by the handle that was now cool. She watched as the gold slid around the bottom. Finally, she set it down and waved her wand. The gold was immediately Vanished from the pot. She waved her wand again and the pot disappeared.

At length, she pushed herself off the bed and walked to the door. Once there, she turned around and looked at Harry gravely. "Ron wouldn't have been angry. He would have tried to understand, and if he hadn't, I would have made him." She gave Harry a tiny smile and walked out of the room, shutting the door quietly behind her.

 

~~**~~

A/N: Please review :)


	30. Wizarding Wireless

*

"Where is he?" Voldemort's high, cold voice filled the deadly silence.

"I don't know, my lord."

Voldemort's eyes flashed scarlet as he glared at the Death Eater in front of him. "Why don't you know where he is? He can't be that difficult to track. He is only seventeen!"

"My lord, I don't know," the Death Eater said swiftly, prostrating himself before him. "I have found traces, but they aren't enough to indicate where he is."

"Lucius, you are trying my patience," Voldemort hissed. "He should have been found by now."

"Yes, my lord," Lucius replied quickly, seeing the anger building behind the slit-like eyes.

"Perhaps you need some inspiration to find him," Voldemort said silkily, taking out his wand and fingering it lovingly, passing it through his long, spidery fingers.

Lucius' eyes widened. "No, my lord!" he said quickly. "Please, I will find him! I will, please, let me look!"

Voldemort paused in his fingering and regarded Lucius seriously. "If you fail me again, there will be no other chance."

Lucius nodded and bowed low, grateful for the escape. He knew he was incredibly lucky and could not count on this again. "Thank you, my lord," he murmured. "I will not fail."

"See that you don't," Voldemort replied in a deadly cool voice. Lucius bowed again and backed out of the room.

Once he was gone, Voldemort turned angrily to look out the lone window in the cell, the window that had not always been visible. His followers were disappointing him. The only one he could count on, it seemed, was Zabini. He delivered his information in a timely manner and it was always useful.

The list he had given him had proved to be quite informative. He had weeded out the spies among his rank and was marginally confident that he had gotten them all. Of course, there had to be a few he had missed since that damn Order still managed to find out about their attacks.

He hadn't heard anything from Macnair and assumed him dead. It wasn't a big loss. There were plenty like him. What was most irking him was that no one had been able to locate Draco or Potter. It had been nearly two months since they had lost Potter and a month since the loss of Draco. Someone should have seen them _somewhere_!

He couldn’t believe that two teenagers could be so well-protected and intelligent enough to hide themselves so thoroughly. He had known there was a reason he had wanted Draco for a Death Eater. The only problem with that was that, apparently, Draco hadn't wanted to. He had seemed so eager at the beginning... 

Voldemort turned from the window, thinking that perhaps a meeting with his followers was in order... to remind them what was due when serving the Dark Lord. A cruel smirk twisted his features as he pressed the Dark Mark on his forearm and summoned them to him.

***

Lucius appeared in a crack in front of an old, decrepit house. The vines twisted angrily over the gutters and the heavy mist enclosed around him.

Lucius simply sneered at the location and stepped over a fallen log in the path. He walked up the stairs and slammed the door open unceremoniously, taking out his anger on the inanimate object. He strode into the room and looked around at the ruined living room.

The stump of a table stood in the corner, charred and blackened. Lucius moved swiftly over to it and then noticed the blood on the floor. He bent down carefully and rubbed his finger in it. It had soaked into the floor and Lucius knew it had been there for quite a while, most likely when the battle had taken place.

He stood up carefully and eyed the kitchen door suspiciously. He moved over to it and pushed it open suddenly, crashing it off its hinges. There was no one there. Lucius' expression darkened as he looked around the room.

He didn't know why he expected to find Draco at Godric's Hollow; something had just told him it would be so. But Draco wasn't there. The house was empty, as it should have been. Lucius sighed angrily, knowing he had hit yet another dead end.

He had to find Draco soon or the consequences would be dire. Voldemort would no longer restrain his temper as he had been so generous to do lately. Lucius couldn't imagine how Draco was evading him so easily. It was he, after all, who had taught Draco all he knew about the Dark Arts. Surely, he would be able to find him.

Lucius turned from the kitchen and went back into the living room, determined to figure out where Draco had gone. He left the house through the front door and walked around to the back.

Once there, he searched through the curling bushes, looking for any trace of anything that might help him. He pushed his way through the brambles that twisted up the sides of the house, holding on for dear life. The sight of them made him angry for some unknown reason. He wanted to tear down the thorns, rip them from their place on the house.

He restrained himself, though, knowing it would do no good and would be worse for him. If he did that, it would disturb the look of the place and people would become suspicious. Instead, he forced himself to turn away from the vines that made him so angry.

He moved further away from the house, searching the ground closely. He knew Draco would have to mess up eventually. And when he did, Lucius would find out.

Twenty feet from the back door, Lucius came to the point where the forest had crept up around the house. The dark trees towered above him ominously, threatening to engulf him if he went one step further.

Lucius scowled at the trees before him and turned away, walking along the perimeter instead. He followed it around the side of the house and stopped suddenly as he caught sight of something on the ground. He stooped down immediately for a closer look.

On a fallen leaf was a puddle of water that pooled in its middle. Inside the puddle was a glimmering symbol. Lucius picked up the leaf carefully and examined the symbol. It looked to Lucius as the leaf had been used as a mirror to see another place, something he had taught Draco long ago. It came in very useful while spying.

Lucius squinted closely at the leaf, now seeing that the he was looking at a miniature model of the Malfoy Manor. The tall, white house rose elegantly in the tiny puddle of water, a mere remnant of what Draco had been looking at.

Lucius' eyes widened and he dropped the leaf, knowing that Draco had gone to the Manor. In a pop, he had Apparated away to find his son and teach him the meaning of loyalty.

***

Draco crept cautiously behind the dark buildings and store backs, concealed under his Invisibility Cloak. Even though he was invisible, he still didn't feel safe. He moved carefully around the back of a store and to its front, peering out cautiously.

Down the street, he could see groups of students huddled together and moving carefully as if afraid to be out too long. Draco waited patiently behind the store until a group passed right by him, walking swiftly up the lane and to the castle beyond.

He followed them closely all the way up to the gates where an Auror was waiting to allow them into the castle. The wards were undone and they slipped inside, Draco as well. He let the students walk on ahead of him and lingered back, staring up at Hogwarts castle.

It had been some months since he had seen the place. He hadn't thought he ever would again. His gaze was caught by the Astronomy tower that stood tall and white against the dark grey sky. Draco shivered and pulled the cloak tighter around himself, though he wasn't entirely sure it was because of the cold.

He forced himself to look away from the tower and made for the oak front doors. Looking around carefully, he slipped inside them. He was sure to keep his Invisibility Cloak on at all times. He knew there were members of the Order in the castle and he was in no hurry to be captured again, either by them or the Death Eaters.

He moved carefully through the crowds of people, taking extra precaution not to step on anyone's foot. Finally, he made it to the base of the marble staircase. For a moment, he wondered where he ought to go. He watched the students pass, completely unaware of his presence.

He wondered how they could seem so carefree when there was a war going on right outside their front door. Did they understand nothing of the horrors that went on? The killings, the sacrifices?

Draco shook his head, almost wanting to whip off his cloak and yell at them for their naivety. He knew he couldn't, though. It would be far too dangerous.

He was about to go up the staircase when he caught the end of a conversation someone was having as they passed by.

"... Weasley died. It was in the _Prophet_. Something about a fight with a Death Eater. I knew they were fighting already!"

Draco jumped off the stairs, intending to find the speaker, but the voice was lost in the crowd as they surged on. Disappointed, he moved back to a safe spot where he wouldn't be in danger of being stepped on and sat down, thinking hard.

A Weasley had died. Which one? Draco really wanted to know now. If it had been Ron, then Harry couldn't be safe! If had been one of the others, it was of no real consequence. Draco now desperately wanted to know more. He had to know if it had been Ron. If Ron was dead, then Harry would be devastated. Ron had been his best friend. No matter how much Draco had detested the red-head, he couldn’t help but admit the kind of effect his death might have on Harry.

Draco stood up from his spot on the floor, determined to find out more. He wound his way cautiously down the stairs and followed the crowd that was entering the Great Hall for dinner. He slipped in with the rest of them, holding his cloak tightly around himself to stop anyone from tripping over him.

Once or twice, someone stumbled, but they merely blamed it on the floor and moved on. Relieved, Draco moved to the wall and waited until most people had taken their seats. Then he began prowling up and down the tables, listening for any snatch of conversation that might be useful.

As he neared the head table, he couldn’t help notice how empty it seemed without Dumbledore sitting in the middle chair, his twinkling eye surveying the hall. Draco felt a twist of guilt in his stomach and turned away quickly, having no desire to watch any more.

He moved, instead, along the Gryffindor table. He caught sight of Dean and Neville sitting together at the end of the table, leaned in closely to each other and speaking in whispers, occasionally shooting a furtive glance around the table to make sure that no one was listening in.

Draco found this highly suspicious and moved up right behind them, hoping they wouldn't sense his presence.

"... Knew something was wrong," Dean was whispering to Neville, who nodded in agreement. "Harry was acting weird the whole time he was here. And now Ron died. What do you think they were doing?"

Draco felt his heart leap when Dean had mentioned Harry. Harry had been there and not too long ago by the sounds of it. He had been right; it had been Ron who had died. Draco knew Harry must be devastated.

"I don't know. They never told us, did they?" Neville whispered, casting another nervous glance along the table. "Whenever we asked, they just changed the subject. Do you think it had to do with You Know Who?"

"Of course it did," Dean whispered back. "Why else would Ron die in a fight with a Death Eater? You know, they didn't mention Harry in there. Do you think he's okay?"

"Maybe he wasn't with him when it happened," Neville suggested, though Draco could tell he really didn't believe that.

"I don't think so," Dean said uneasily. "Something's going on and they're not telling us everything. Why would Ron not be with Harry and Hermione? They never split up! He had to be there."

"Maybe the _Prophet_ got it wrong," Neville offered.

"I doubt it," Dean said seriously. "Something is being covered up, big time."

Neville was about to respond when he turned suddenly and looked straight at Draco. Draco felt his heart stop momentarily as Neville looked through him. Neville seemed to think he had imagined a presence behind him, but said no more to Dean, turned away, and began eating his dinner in silence.

Draco knew it was no more use to listen anymore. Neville had become suspicious. Even with his tiny brain, he knew when he was being watched. It must be some internal thing, Draco thought.

He backed away from the table and left the Hall carefully, hiding himself behind a tapestry where he sunk down to the floor to think. Harry had been at Hogwarts but had left. Ron had died in an apparent Death Eater fight. It sounded to Draco like Dean didn't believe it, like there was more to the story. But he had a point; why would Harry not be mentioned with Ron? They were best mates. Surely, Harry would have been there to support Ron.

Draco didn't like the sound of it, not at all. A growing unease had begun in the pit of his stomach and he knew something was wrong with this whole picture. Draco wanted to find Harry; he needed to. It had been far too long since he had seen him safe and it killed him.

He had looked for him at Godric's Hollow already but had found little. He knew he had already been there. All that told him was that he had been too late. 

Knowing that he was being searched for, Draco had left a fake trail to fool his father while he had gone on in search of Harry. He knew Harry's habits and that he couldn’t resist familiar places, no matter how awful. Draco had the sinking feeling that if he didn't find Harry soon, he would miss him forever.

~~**~~

_  
A/N: Please review :)_


	31. The Beginning of the End

*

Harry lay on his bed in Grimmauld Place staring at the ceiling. Since Ron's death, he found it hard to do anything. He was listless and lethargic, barely managing to keep himself awake. He knew he shouldn't be doing it, but it was difficult to get his body to cooperate.

What with Draco's still unknown fate and Ron's absence, Harry was hard pressed to believe that life would ever get better. He knew he shouldn't be moping around the dreary, old house, but he just couldn't help it. He felt so hopeless with two of his most important people gone from his life.

He still had Hermione, it was true, but she was really no help to cheer him when she, herself, was too depressed to try. She had been keeping to herself mostly. It had gotten marginally better since Harry had confided in her his real reason for setting off so quickly, but it hadn't returned to normal. Harry knew it might never. Ron had been too much of a figure in their lives for that.

Harry pushed himself up on his bed with difficulty. Despite the desire to never move from that spot, there was a far stronger one burning deep inside his chest. He had finally accepted that Ron's death had not been his fault, though it had taken a long time and many comforting words from Hermione. He knew now whose fault it was, whose fault everything was: Voldemort's. 

Voldemort was responsible for all the deaths, the disappearances, the worry, all of it. If it hadn't been for him, Draco would be safe, Ron would still be alive, and Harry wouldn't be sitting in a house that he hated, waiting for the hammer to drop.

Harry slid off his bed, standing wobbly on his legs that felt like they hadn't been used in days. He stumbled to the door and opened it, going out onto the landing beyond.

He grasped the banister tightly as he walked down the stairs. He hated feeling like this, out of control. He needed to control something, and, right now, it was his legs. He forced himself to walk into the kitchen where he found Hermione sitting at the table.

She was staring quite intently at the burn mark on it and barely looked up when Harry entered. Harry tripped only once on his way to the table but his legs finally seemed to have gotten their strength back. He went over to the cupboard and rummaged inside it a minute, coming back with some crackers to eat. His stomach was growling quite angrily at him and had been for the past few days.

He plopped down at the table with Hermione, crunching the crackers thoughtfully. He knew what had to be done now. It was no use crying anymore. Ron wasn't going to come back, but there was still the possibility of saving Draco. There was only one way to do that, Harry knew. He had to kill Voldemort. But first, he needed to destroy the last Horcrux: the snake, Nagini.

"Hermione," he said suddenly. She looked up at him as though coming out of a daze. "I can't stay here." She just looked at him for a moment, not saying anything. "I can't sit and do nothing. The only way to end any of this is to go on. I have to."

Hermione stirred as if she just realized what he was saying. "Are you saying you want to go alone?"

Harry sighed. "Hermione, Ron's already died. It's not safe. I have to kill Voldemort."

"Of course you do," she said, "but you can't think I'd let you go alone!"

"But, Hermione!" he exclaimed. "You might die! Do you have any idea what that would do? I'd have lost both of my best friends! I don't think I could stand it."

Hermione gave him a sad look. "Harry, I said I'd go with you and I will. It doesn't matter what's happened in the past. I still trust you and I know you'll be fine."

"How can you be so confident?" Harry asked hopelessly.

"There's a quote, Harry, that I heard a long time ago when I was younger. _'We are all in the gutters, but some of us are looking at the stars.'_ I'm looking at the stars, Harry. And you should be too."

Harry stared at her, knowing she would never let him go alone. It was inevitable that she would come along, and, hopefully, she wouldn't die in the process. He knew he had led them to their doom on first telling them of his plans. He should never have done it. He should have left in the middle of the night without a word to anyone.

Unfortunately, it hadn't worked out that way and he was obliged to accept that fact that Hermione would stick with him until the end.

"Well," he said hesitantly, "alright, you can come."

"Good," she said resolutely, not that she had expected anything different.

They were silent for a moment, save for Harry's crunching on the crackers. He almost felt better knowing he wouldn't be going alone. A part of him feared for Hermione's safety but the other part was scared to death of facing Voldemort alone. Yes, he had done it before, but not with the intention of killing him.

"I think..." he said tentatively after a few moments of silence. "Next, I have to kill Nagini. She's the last Horcrux."

"How are you going to kill her? I bet Voldemort's put spells on her to protect her. And how are you going to find her?"

Harry was silent. He had been thinking of this for a few days now. He knew it would be difficult to find Nagini without attracting Voldemort as well, but he thought it might be impossible. He thought there might only be one way of finding the snake.

"I think the only way is to draw her out," he said slowly.

Hermione gave him a questioning look and then she understood. "No, you can't be serious, Harry!"

"Hermione," he sighed, "I know it seems suicidal, but it's the only way to get her. She only sticks close to him. I can't get one without the other."

"But, Harry," Hermione said, shaking her head in disbelief, "what if you can't kill her? Then you'll be stuck with Voldemort! What if he tries to kill you, Harry?!"

"That’s a risk I'm just going to have to take," Harry said seriously. He knew this was the only way to even have a chance at killing the snake. He just had to hope he could escape Voldemort long enough to do it.

"Harry, I really don't know if this is the best idea," Hermione said uneasily.

"Well, do you have a better one?" he asked.

"No," she sighed, "but I just don't want you to sacrifice yourself before it's necessary."

"Hermione, it's necessary," he said. "I've been going around for the past two months trying to destroy him and we're so close. I can't just wait anymore. I need to finish this."

"I know you do," she said in a resigned voice. "I just-- Harry, you're an amazing wizard. I probably don't tell you often enough, but you are. I know you can do it. I guess I'm just being selfish."

"You are not selfish!" Harry exclaimed, surprised that she would even think such a thing.

"Yes, I am," she said sadly. "I want you to stay safe, to not put yourself in danger. But by doing that, I'm preventing the world from ever being safe."

"Hermione, if people didn't do that, no one would be alive! You're just trying to protect me. It's not selfish."

Hermione shrugged. "I just don't want you to get hurt, Harry, and by putting yourself in such a position, it's like you're offering yourself up to Voldemort on a platter."

"It's not like that," Harry said. "I'm not just going to walk out and say, 'Hey, Voldemort, here I am, come kill me now.' No, Hermione, I'm going to lure him out, find the snake and kill it, hopefully before he notices."

She didn't say anything for a moment, sitting in contemplative silence. "Well," she said finally, "fine. I'll be there to help you, I promise."

"Thanks, Hermione," he said, feeling much better now that she supported his plan. "And we're going to do this on my terms."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I don't want to fight him in some graveyard somewhere. I want to fight where I choose."

"Whatever you want, Harry," she said resolutely, sitting back in the chair and closing her eyes while Harry munched on his crackers beside her.

***

Harry and Hermione appeared in a pop in the lush green forest. The heavy mist crept around their ankles as they moved swiftly through the trees. They weren't bothering to wear the Invisibility Cloak as they trampled through the underbrush.

They pushed their way through the trees, pulling the brambles away from their clothes as they stumbled through. When they reached the edge of the forest, Harry held out a hand to halt Hermione.

They stopped and listened carefully. At first, all that could be heard was the slow drip of water from the broad leaves of the trees. Harry looked up into the foliage and wondered if they were truly alone.

All of a sudden, the snake on his wrist gave a particularly loud hiss and Harry glared at it. "~~Stop!~~" he hissed in Parseltongue. The snake didn't stop but did quiet slightly. It was now circling around the silver band at an alarming rate. It made Harry slightly sick to watch it.

He pulled his gaze away from the tiny snake and a flash of movement caught his eye. He turned his head sharply to the left and stared into the plants.

"What is it?" Hermione whispered, moving closer to Harry.

He nodded with his head in the direction he had seen the movement and leaned in closer. "There's someone on the watch," he whispered. He could feel her tense beside him.

Together, they moved forward slowly, coming into the open. Harry knew he was safe from being attacked by Death Eaters for the most part. He knew Voldemort had ordered him to be saved for himself. He was more worried for Hermione whom they wouldn't hesitate to kill. He, therefore, kept her close as they moved further into the open, coming close to the house Harry had been attacked at only a few months before.

Harry heard another rustle of movement behind him and pulled Hermione closer. "Are you ready?" he whispered in her ear.

She nodded slowly and Harry saw her hand clench around her wand tightly. The moved confidently forward, coming to the back door of the house. Instead of going in, they climbed up on the back steps and stood there, waiting.

Quickly and quietly, Hermione slipped her wand behind her and performed an extremely complicated and personalized Locking Charm on the door. They were not going to give Voldemort the chance of surprising them that way.

Hermione also set an Unbreakable Charm on the door just for good measure in case he decided not to bother with the lock and, instead, simply blasted the door down. They stood tensely on the steps, waiting.

A minute went by and then two. The snake on Harry's wrist was growing more and more agitated as the time passed and Harry knew it couldn't be a good sign. He and Hermione waited with growing apprehension. Surely, it couldn't be good that it was taking this long.

"Why, Potter," a drawling, cold voice came out of the shadows of the trees and Harry felt his heart jump into his throat. Beside him, Hermione slipped away behind his back, unnoticed. Voldemort emerged from the trees, looking menacing in swirling black robes that trailed to the floor. He moved forward swiftly and silently, further increasing Harry's fear. "I never thought it might be so easy to kill you, out here in the open like. I admit, even I thought you were smarter than that."

To Harry, it seemed like Voldemort was almost disappointed that it might be so easy. At the moment, though, he really didn't care. He was keeping one eye on Voldemort, the other was searching the ground for the snake. If he hadn't brought it-- if she hadn't come... Harry was doomed.

"What are you looking for, Potter?" Voldemort sneered, coming ever closer to Harry on the step.

Harry swallowed his heart and tried to concentrate on his plan. He felt fear facing Voldemort, but he also knew he could do it. He had done it before.

"Actually, I'm looking for Nagini," Harry said, deciding it might just be best to tell him flat out. Voldemort would never expect it.

Voldemort actually looked taken aback for half a second before sneering in reply. "Why so interested, Potter? Were you desiring to become a snake's meal once I had finished with you?"

"No," Harry said casually, strikingly aware of how close Voldemort had come, "it's just... she's your favorite pet. Surely, your most _loyal_ follower hasn't abandoned you?" 

Harry knew he had to do it to get the information he wanted. He could see the provoking quality of his statement and hoped to Merlin he lived to finish this.

"She has not abandoned me," Voldemort spat, his temper getting the best of him for once. "She has been killed by a man doomed to die."

"She's dead?" Harry repeated, completely forgetting his predicament. If the snake was already dead, then there were no Horcruxes left.

"Yes, Potter, just as you are about to be," Voldemort replied, his eyes flashing scarlet.

Voldemort whipped out his wand and raised it above his head before Harry had any time to react. But, instead of being hit with a spell, Harry watched as Voldemort's feet were pulled out from underneath him. Harry quickly jumped off the steps and moved around to the side, keeping his wand on Voldemort the entire time.

Voldemort pushed himself to his feet, looking furious. He glared around at Harry and Harry knew he was in for it now.

"Double-teaming?" Voldemort hissed. "How unbecoming of a Gryffindor." In a flash, he had pointed his wand where Hermione had been hidden in the trees and she was immediately bound with invisible ropes. She struggled uselessly against them but could not get out. "And here I thought you were all about fair play."

Harry's head spun in all directions as a multitude of cracks surrounded him, the small clearing around the house suddenly filling with at least five Death Eaters.

"Uh oh," was all he could say before the curses started flying.

 

~~**~~

A/N: :)


	32. End Before the Epilogue

*

Harry dashed to the side as a flash of red light whizzed past his ear, barely ruffling the hair on his head. He scurried around the back side of Voldemort even though he was surrounded in all directions. Voldemort just stood in the middle of the circle and laughed.

"What's wrong, Potter?" he asked in a mocking voice. "Can't defend yourself against five lowly Death Eaters?"

Harry paid him no attention, too busy keeping an eye on the Death Eaters as they advanced on him. He caught sight of Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange, two he didn't know, and Snape. Harry's blood began to pump furiously through his veins as he glared at Snape, too full of hate to do anything.

"Mmhphmfmhp!" came a muffled cry from behind him.

Harry turned sharply and saw one of the unknown Death Eaters bearing down on him. He whipped his wand around, slicing it through the air. " _Stupefy!_ " he cried.

The spell hit the man in the chest, and he faltered, falling to the ground. Voldemort paid him no mind and yelled at the remaining four. "Get him!"

Harry began to panic as the others advanced on him. He barely missed a jet of white light sent at him by Lucius. He looked into those cold, grey eyes and felt a rush of hatred.

" _Expelliarmus!_ " he shouted, shooting the wand from Lucius' hand. Lucius let out a cry of rage and nearly charged Harry but was prevented by Bellatrix, who had her wand pointed at Harry, malice shining in her face.

"Hello again, Potter," she breathed, her dark eyes shining. "How would you like to join your wonderful godfather tonight?"

Harry paid no heed to her words, knowing she was trying to provoke him into acting. Meanwhile, the other two were advancing on him slowly as he backed further into the forest. He stumbled over a protruding root and knew this was no way to go. They would herd him into the forest and he would lose.

Instead of listening to Bella, his mind raced for an escape plan. Unfortunately, the only thing he could think of was that Hermione had been right about his plan. He should have expected something like this.

Bella raised her wand and brought it slicing down through the air, a bolt of blue light zigzagging from the wand. Harry dodged it at the last minute and heard the singeing of a tree where he had just stood.

" _Ferula!_ " he cried, shouting the first spell that came into his mind. Bella's legs were suddenly bound together with a kind of crutch. She let out a howl of rage as she tore at the bindings.

Harry took the opportunity to fling himself to the side of the encroaching Death Eaters and stand up, running around the other side of the house. On his way, he passed Hermione, who was still tied in invisible ropes and unable to move. He knew he had to help her get out of them if either of them had a chance of surviving.

He doubled back, narrowly missing the curse sent by Lucius, who had regained his wand. He dove into the trees and to Hermione's side. He scrabbled at the invisible robes with his hands, trying to find some way to untie them.

"Hermione, how do I do it?!" he exclaimed, sure she might know.

"Mhpmh mhfmpgmh mpfhpfp!" was the muffled response. Harry knew it was no use. Obviously, they were binding her mouth as well. Her eyes were wide as she watched behind Harry. "Mphfhppgpfmf!" 

Harry jumped a foot in the air as there was a mighty crash behind him. He whirled around, seeing that a tree had crashed down just inches from him, felled by a badly-aimed curse from one of the Death Eaters.

Harry immediately abandoned Hermione. He didn't want to, but he knew it would do him no good to try to help her when he didn't know how.

All of a sudden, his arm was seized and he was spun around to face a masked Death Eater, one he didn't know. His arm was in the tight grip of the man, and the grip was getting tighter every second.

Harry raised his wand and pressed it to the man's arm. The Death Eater immediately pulled it back, a shot of pain searing through it. He let go of Harry and Harry took the opportunity to escape through the underbrush.

"Stop him!" he heard Voldemort cry from the house.

Harry stopped. Why was he running away? He needed to be going after Voldemort. The only problem was the Death Eaters that continued to stalk him like a lion and its prey.

He struggled through the trees and back toward the house, making sure to avoid the continuing stream of curses that issued from Bella's and Lucius' wands. Snape, it seemed, was not participating in the fight. Harry's mind was automatically suspicious as he looked at the greasy-haired man standing by Voldemort's side, almost casually.

He had no time to ponder the matter, though, as a shooting pain ripped through his left shoulder. While he had been preoccupied and staring at Snape, Bella had taken advantage and hit him in the shoulder with a Freezing Charm. It had frozen his muscles momentarily.

He gritted his teeth through the pain and whipped around, fury in his face. Bella didn't even have the decency to look scared.

" _Cripplatus!_ " Harry shouted, sending the Crippling Curse directly at her. She screamed in rage as her legs collapsed underneath her.

"Potter!" she shrieked. "Come back and fight like a man!"

Harry didn't listen, just took off in the opposite direction, still running towards the house. He was ten feet from Voldemort and Snape when Lucius Malfoy stepped in his path, his wand aloft and his face alight with malice.

"I'll get you, Potter," he growled menacingly. "You've ruined everything!"

Harry didn't even bother to understand what that meant, but he knew he needed to get out of there. The two objects of his rage were standing just beyond him. Voldemort was watching the scene with cruel interest. Snape had no expression on his face; Harry found that particularly odd.

Lucius raised his wand to perform a deadly curse when all went pitch black. Harry looked all around, unable to see anything in the darkness that had, so suddenly, fallen. He raised his hand and realized he couldn’t even see it.

"Wha--" he started to say but then felt a hand on his arm. He made to wrench it away but the pressure increased slightly, a reassuring grip.

"Harry," a desperate voice whispered, sending chills down Harry's spine, "you have to get out of here; he's going to kill you! I love you."

Harry was lost for a second and, in an instant, the hand was gone. 

"Draco?" he asked wildly, looking all around in the darkness, but there was no response. "Draco!"

Then the black was gone and Harry could see again. Lucius was gone but Voldemort and Snape still stood before him, both looking a little confused and suspicious. Harry looked around him, searching for Draco. He knew it had been him!

Just then, Hermione appeared by his side, looking angry and determined.

"How did you--?" he asked, completely amazed.

"Now is not the time, Harry!" she yelled as a jet of white light grazed her elbow and she shrieked in pain. Harry could see the blood dribbling out of the cut and onto her shirt. She took no notice of the pain, though, and whipped around to face Bellatrix, who had managed to do the counter curse on herself.

Harry jerked to the side as Bella sent curse after curse at him and Hermione. Hermione took over his fight and began battling with Bella. The flashes of light were flying too fast for Harry to even know which was which.

He turned back to Snape and Voldemort. Voldemort no longer looked cruelly amused; he looked furious. His wand was flourished and Harry barely missed being blasted apart by a crash of lightning.

He rolled to the side and looked back to see a smoking crater in the ground where he'd just been standing. He looked back at Voldemort, who was walking toward him deliberately.

"You have been one tricky little child," he sneered, his red eyes flashing angrily. "But no more, Potter. The time has finally come for you to learn what it's like to face the greatest wizard alive and never live to tell the tale."

Harry's eyes widened and he stumbled back again, his heart rising once more in his chest. To his left, in the trees, he thought he heard the sound of someone Apparating in but didn't stop to wonder who it was. With his luck, it would be another Death Eater to help out.

Voldemort raised his wand over his head and made an extremely complicated movement in the air before bringing it down hard, pointing straight at Harry.

Harry's arms flew in front of his face instinctively and he was surprised to feel nothing. He opened his eyes that had been shut tightly and looked up in confusion. Surely, he should have been dead. Before him, Voldemort was looking apoplectic with rage.

It was then that Harry heard a loud noise. The snake on his bracelet was hissing more madly than Harry had ever heard it before. There was a tiny dent in the silver bracelet and the snake was slithering over it, hissing furiously.

Voldemort raised his wand again to send another curse at Harry when a yell broke his concentration.

"I've got him!" crowed a joyous voice from the front of the house.

Harry was completely confused when he heard the cry and didn't know what to do. Even Voldemort seemed to be hesitating. They didn't have to wait long, though, as someone came around the corner, holding a struggling figure.

Harry's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. "Draco!" he yelled, seeing the struggling blond in his father's unforgiving grip.

"Harry!" Draco cried but was soon muffled as Lucius pressed his arm over his son's mouth, preventing him from speaking. Lucius' other hand had his wand poking painfully into Draco's side.

"So you've found our little escapee," Voldemort said with apparent glee. He turned back to Harry, a malicious smirk twisting his features. "And you have something invested in this unworthy little snake?"

Harry glared at Voldemort, a hatred boiling in his gut like he had never known. He raised his wand and pointed it directly at Voldemort. " _Crucio!_ " he screamed.

Voldemort was barely affected. He jerked and twitched for a moment and then began to laugh. "You think that can hurt me, Potter?" he asked in a cruelly amused voice. "You want to kill me? I'm afraid it will take a little more than pain."

"Oh, I know what it takes to kill you," Harry growled, glaring at the man who had made his entire existence a living hell. 

Voldemort gave a high, cold laugh, but his eyes were far from amused. "Then why haven't you? Why have you been hiding? Running from everything?"

Harry had no answer for that. If he told him about the Horcruxes, it would ruin everything and he would retreat right then, never giving Harry a chance to kill him.

Voldemort's eyes were cold and glittering as he surveyed Harry. "I knew it, Potter. I'm going to kill you, but first, a little torture."

Voldemort turned to Draco, who was still struggling against his father's grip. He twisted and turned, trying to wrench his body away.

"Let go of me!" he shouted, having wrenched his face out from under his father's arm.

"No," Lucius breathed, his face contorted with fury. "It's time you learned a little respect!"

Harry watched in panic as Lucius prodded his wand further into Draco's side and Draco turned his body as far as he could away from the wand. He saw Lucius whisper a spell and saw tiny waves of a spell travel down the length of his wand and into Draco's body.

"No!" he shouted as Draco's body began to jerk uncontrollably in pain. He desperately wanted to do something and raised his wand, having no idea what to do, but determined to do something.

He never got the chance, though, as a blast of purple light shot past his side and straight at Lucius. Lucius gave a cry and fell to the ground, limp. Draco also fell and lay motionless on the ground.

Harry's hand flew to his mouth as he looked at Draco. He couldn't believe. It couldn't be true, no! He tried to rush forward but Voldemort stepped into his path.

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that, Potter," he said in a deadly cool voice. "You see, the little Malfoy has been evading me for a while now. He deserves his punishment."

Harry was too shocked to even absorb what Voldemort was saying. He was busy staring at the ground and didn't notice when Voldemort moved closer, a manic glint in his eye.

"Ow!" Harry cried as, all of a sudden, a twingeing pain hit his lower back, jerking him to his senses.

He looked up and saw that Voldemort was merely feet from him and bearing down upon him, wand in hand and poised to kill him.

He stumbled backwards, completely at a loss for what to do. He looked back at Draco and thought he saw a tiny stirring of movement. A feeling surged in his chest as he watched the body on the ground.

He turned back to Voldemort, who was nearly upon him. Voldemort raised his wand and opened his mouth. " _Avada K--_ "

"No!" Harry shouted suddenly. He ducked down and heard the sickening crack that barely missed his head. He crawled to the side and threw himself to his feet, determined to finish this.

As he stood facing Voldemort, death on the air, he remembered what Dumbledore had told him what seemed like many years ago. "You have the power to love." At the time, it had seemed so stupid and simple to Harry. He hadn't understood then.

But looking at Voldemort and seeing the hatred and cruelty in his face, he knew. Behind him, Draco lay motionless on the ground and Harry glanced at him, feeling a powerful emotion welling up in his chest.

He raised his wand, his face determinedly set. " _Diffinito!_ " he shouted, the words filling the now-silent clearing and echoing for miles.

Harry’s wand drew the line across Voldemort’s neck like he had done the pillow months before. This time, it slashed across the pale skin and crimson flooded from the man before him. There was no sound as Voldemort collapsed to the ground, blood soaking his robes and body. 

Harry stared down at the diminishing figure. He couldn’t believe that he had actually done the curse correctly and that Voldemort was gone. He watched as the body went limp and the scarlet blood soaked the grass. 

He was frozen for a moment as he looked at the body. He forced himself to look away and, instead, looked around the clearing and saw Hermione struggling toward him. Her arm looked broken from the angle at which it hung.

Behind her stood Blaise Zabini. His expression was mildly bored as he inspected one of the bodies on the ground. Harry saw him poke the Death Eater with his foot and then shrug. Next to Blaise was Snape, looking completely bat-like as usual. His wand was held limply at his side and he looked like he didn't quite know what to do.

Harry stared at him, wondering why Hermione hadn't killed him. Hermione reached him just then and grabbed onto his arm, pulling him to her and into a one-armed hug.

"Oh, Harry!" she cried. "You're all right!"

"Hermione, why--?" he started but never finished as Hermione let out a startled gasp.

Harry whipped around, fully expecting to see Voldemort risen from the dead. Instead, his gaze fell on Draco, who was still lying on the ground. Harry pushed Hermione off him and fell to his knees next to Draco.

"Draco," he whispered, sliding his hands around Draco's back and hoisting him off the ground a little ways. "Draco, wake up."

Draco didn't stir as Harry held him. Harry ran a hand over Draco's neck and up his cheek. "Please," he whispered, bending down and burying his face in Draco's neck. "Please, Draco, wake up. I need you, wake up."

But still, Draco didn't wake. Harry couldn't help it as he began to cry, the tears running down his face and onto the soft grass beneath his knees.

"Draco, Draco," he whispered, rocking back and forth with the limp body in his arms. He pressed his ear to Draco's chest and heard the rapid succession of heartbeats.

"He's alive!" he cried, listening hard. Hermione made a sudden movement but restrained herself and stood worriedly next to him. "His heart, it's too fast! He's going to die!"

Harry pulled away and looked at Draco fearfully, knowing he only had a matter of minutes before Draco's heart might overload and kill him. At once, he ripped his pack off his back and began digging through it furiously, searching for anything that might help. He tossed away the Invisibility Cloak, Fred and George's glove, the Marauder's Map, and even the Pensieve. He finally came to the bottom of the bag and pulled out a small, silver box that he had completely forgotten about.

Inside was the gift that Fleur had given him for his birthday. The small, pressed flower's aroma was still as strong as ever and it immediately relaxed Harry. He tore it out of the box and held it under Draco's nose, hoping he wasn't too late.

He watched fearfully as Draco's chest began to move slower the longer the flower was held in place. Next to Hermione, Blaise had cautiously come, peering over her shoulder at Harry and Draco.

Harry took away the flower and pressed his ear to Draco's chest once more, listening hard. He could now hear a steady beating and knew his heart rate had gone down to a more normal speed, but why wasn't he waking up?

"Draco?" Harry whispered again, lowering him back onto the ground and placing a hand on his chest lightly. "Draco, wake up, please. Draco, I love you."

Harry stared down at him on the ground and waited anxiously, wondering if he would ever wake up again. Maybe Lucius' curse had been fatal no matter what they did. 

Above him, Hermione was staring down, her hand over her mouth. Her other arm hung at an odd angle to her body but she didn't seem worried about it at the moment.

Harry sighed in despair and hung his head, knowing it was no use. After everything he had done, everything he had gone through, Draco had died. Draco had trusted him to save him, to be there for him and he had failed him. He had failed everyone.

"Harry!" Hermione let out a shriek and Harry looked up sharply. She was pointing down at Draco and Harry turned to look.

His eyes were fluttering, but he could barely keep them open.

"Harry?" he asked in a strained voice.

"Draco!" Harry whispered, bending over him. "You're alive!"

"Of course I am," Draco tried to joke but ended up just coughing. When it finally passed, he looked up at Harry. "I'm sorry, Harry. You shouldn't have done this for me."

"Of course, I should have!" Harry exclaimed. "Draco, I love you! It's going to be fine now! He's dead; Voldemort's dead! We're safe now."

Draco nodded weakly but appeared to be gaining some strength back. He struggled to push himself upright but Harry was having none of it. He pushed Draco back down and he went easily.

Draco sighed. "I can manage," he said in an amused voice. 

"Not yet, you can't," Harry replied seriously. "I've finally got you and you are not going anywhere until I'm sure you're all right."

"All right, all right," Draco sighed exasperatedly and allowed Harry to settle him back down on the ground and sit down beside him. Harry looked up at Hermione, who was smiling at the pair of them. Beside her, Blaise looked mildly interested and behind him, Snape stood awkwardly.

"You didn't mean to," Harry said quietly and Snape looked up.

"It was part of his plan," Snape replied. "He wanted you to believe I had done it out of spite so you might be more willing to go after Voldemort, for causing so many more deaths. I admit, I wasn't sure that I would make it out alive, but Blaise knew of my standing and, graciously, spared me."

Harry looked at Blaise, who shrugged. "Hey, I do what's best for me. The Dark Lord as a ruler wasn't in my best interest, so I kept my mouth shut."

Harry looked between the two in pure incredulity. He couldn't believe how wrong he'd been about Snape, though he wasn't exactly prone to trust him quite yet. That would take some time.

Harry nodded and looked back to Draco, who was lying on the ground, looking tired. Harry sighed and lay down on his side next to Draco, wrapping a hand around his waist and scooting closer, keeping him safe.

 

~~**~~

A/N: Just the epilogue left... review?


	33. Epilogue

*

Three Months Later...

"Open your present!" Harry commanded excitedly. He watched in enraptured joy as Draco picked up the small box wrapped in red and gold, shimmery wrapping paper.

Draco shook it slightly, listening to it and Harry laughed. "Just open it."

"Okay, okay," Draco conceded, laughing. He tore open the paper and opened the box inside. Lying on top of a few layers of tissue paper was a lion pendant coiled on a fine, gold chain. Draco picked it up carefully, staring at it in amazement.

The small lion hanging on the chain glimmered in the flickering light from the fireplace. He and Harry sat curled up in front of the warm flames, clothed in only their pajamas. Off to the side, blocking the window, stood a large Christmas tree, adorned with decorations galore and twinkling lights. It was dark outside and the only lights in the room came from the fire and the tree.

"Wow, Harry," Draco breathed, staring at the lion.

Harry crawled over to him and took it out of his hands, clasping it around his neck. He ran his finger down the chain, coming to the lion and finally letting it fall onto Draco's neck. He looked up at Draco and smiled softly.

"I just thought it was about time I returned the favor," Harry said quietly.

"You don't have to return the favor, Harry," Draco said, smiling softly. "You saved my life."

"And you saved mine," Harry said, raising up his wrist where the tiny green snake was resting peacefully on its silver band. The tiny dent was still there from where Voldemort's curse had hit it, but Harry hardly ever noticed it.

Draco reached out for Harry's wrist, pulling it to him and pressing a kiss to it. Harry sighed contentedly and scooted over into Draco's lap, sinking down and watching the fire as it flickered lazily.

Draco played absently with the golden chain now situated around his neck. "Where's Hermione this Christmas?" he asked suddenly.

"At the Weasley's," Harry replied. "They're like her family anyway."

Draco nodded and leaned back against the foot of the couch, running his hand through Harry's messy hair absent-mindedly. He knew Hermione had had a hard time after Ron had died. She had taken some time away from everyone but was slowly integrating back into wizard society. She spent a lot of time at the Weasley's nowadays.

Hermione had found a new friend in Rose when she spent time with the Weasleys and Fleur’s family. Harry had seen Rose once since the end of the war. She had greeted him cheerfully and told him that he would be living without fear from then on. This had made Harry very happy.

She and Hermione spent a lot of time together, and Harry was grateful that she was adjusting again. She also tended to spend a lot of her time talking with Ginny, who had become a better friend since then

When Hermione had told Ginny about all that had happened with Harry and Draco, she had been devastated. At first, she couldn't understand why Harry would be with someone as cruel as Draco. In the end, though, she'd had no choice but to accept it and move on. Last Harry had heard, she had a new boyfriend and they were happy.

After the war, Harry had told Draco about everything that had happened, about the Horcruxes, the battles, the daily pain of waiting without knowing anything. Draco now understood just why Voldemort had been so enraged about his killing of the snake.

As he sat comfortably on the floor with Harry, he thought how lucky he was to be there. The Death Eater trials had begun and he had narrowly escaped. Harry had vouched for him, but it had taken the Ministry a while to accept that he was truly on their side. With the help of Harry, Blaise had manipulated his way out of any punishment and had been allowed to go free. Blaise had been the one to send the fatal curse to Lucius Malfoy, thereby ridding him from their lives once and for all.

Snape had had a hard time of it and was still awaiting further trial. Even though Harry told the Ministry that he had helped in the killing of Voldemort, there was doubt about his innocence. He had, after all, killed Dumbledore as well. Harry felt marginally better about Snape's involvement in the war and would be okay with whatever the Ministry decided to do with him. He knew they wouldn't kill him, not after the evidence Harry had provided. He had been the one to hit him in the back with the mild Stinging Hex, bringing him to his senses.

Harry wasn't worried about Snape. He could handle himself. Harry had spent most of the past three months getting everything in order. He and Draco had bought a house out in the English countryside and moved in mere weeks after Voldemort's death. Harry felt like he was free for the first time in his life. 

He had decided not to get a job right away even though he had been bombarded with offers. He wanted to take time to enjoy being a free man, for at least a little while. He knew he would never be truly free. He was, after all, still the Boy Who Lived. But here, with Draco, he felt like he truly belonged.

Harry shifted in Draco’s lap and sat up, turning around to face him. Draco merely raised a questioning eyebrow. "Yes?"

"Are you happy?" he asked.

"You have no idea," Draco said softly, reaching out and drawing Harry forward, kissing him softly.

The kiss was long, slow, and sweet. Harry crawled over Draco, pushing him lightly to the ground, onto his back. He continued the kiss, pushing his tongue slowly into Draco's mouth, lapping at the hot caverns within.

Draco moaned softly and his hands came up to Harry's sides, running down them lightly. He loved the way it felt when they were alone like this and out of everyone's control.

Harry broke the kiss reluctantly and pulled away, stripping off his shirt. Draco could only stare in wondrous appreciation of Harry as his tanned muscles glistened in the flickering light from the fire. Harry reached over and slid Draco's white, cotton shirt over his head and threw it away.

Harry leaned down then and kissed Draco again, still a slow, loving kiss. Draco's hands ran over Harry's pectoral muscles, relishing the smooth, unblemished skin. He loved Harry for who he was but was also glad that he hadn't come away from the war with any hideous scars, no long-lasting reminders of the hell he had gone through. Draco was at least glad for that.

Harry's fingers fluttered down Draco's sides, skimming over the pale skin, stopping at the few tiny lines of scars adorning the spot just above his hip bone, a lasting reminder of Lucius' curse. Harry ran his fingers gently over the spot before moving down to his flannel pajama pants. Harry tugged them off slowly, not wanting to go too fast. He wanted this night to last. Draco moaned softly and arched his body off the floor, allowing Harry to slip the pants off easier.

When the offending article was gone, Harry leaned down, sliding his tongue over the taut muscles of Draco's torso. He nipped at the pale flesh, drawing a sharp gasp from the boy above.

"Ohhh... Harry..." Draco breathed, his hand winding down to twist in Harry's hair. 

Harry slid his tongue down to Draco's inner thigh, running it over the smooth flesh. He then moved over to Draco's erection that was waiting impatiently for fulfillment.

He paused for about one second before running his tongue around the edge of the leaking cock. His tongue lapped at the foreskin before he took Draco in his mouth, swallowing the cock as much as he could. 

"Fu--uck, Harry," Draco gasped, as Harry swirled his tongue over Draco's member. His eyes were shut and his hand pulled tightly on Harry's hair.

Harry could fell Draco nearing completion already, but wasn't ready for him to climax quite yet. Just as Draco was about to lose it, Harry pulled away. Draco immediately bemoaned the loss of the warmth but shut up when he felt something slick press into his entrance.

Harry had used his wand for a Lubrication Spell while Draco had been distracted with pleasure. He slid his fingers into the puckered hole, stretching and expanding it as much as he could. When he finally thought Draco was ready, he removed the fingers, replacing them with the head of his engorged member.

Draco whimpered with anticipation as Harry pressed himself slowly into his body. He slid his cock past the tightening muscles and deep into Draco's body. Draco thrust his hips up to meet Harry's, further impaling himself.

"Merlin, Draco--" Harry gasped as the tight, hot muscles clenched further around his cock. He began to move slowly, thrusting in and out of the receptive body beneath his.

Draco moaned and writhed underneath him, making it nearly impossible for Harry to hold on. He slid back into Draco's body, his cock being swallowed by the hot muscles. Draco groaned and thrust his hips upward, connecting them with Harry's, crashing a wave of heat over his body

"Ah! Fuck, Harry, please--" Draco gasped when Harry changed the angle of the thrust and slammed back into his body. Draco opened his eyes for a moment and looked behind him on the floor. He saw the dark, flickering light from the fire place shimmering over the many wrapped presents that sat beneath the multi-colored tree.

Harry looked down at Draco, admiring how beautiful he was as the light played across his pale body. He leaned forward, kissing Draco softly as he continued to thrust in a steady rhythm into his body.

Finally, he felt his climax coming over him and he couldn't hold on as wave after wave of pleasure came over him. He came deep inside the blond, moaning his name as he did so. He was lost in his own release and hardly noticed as Draco came as well.

Panting, he fell to the side of the blond. They lay on the rug for a while, letting the warmth from the fire wash over them. At length, Harry turned to Draco, pushing himself up on his elbow.

"I love you," he murmured, running a hand through Draco's soft hair.

Draco smiled contentedly. "I know."

Harry scoffed and hit Draco lightly. "Hey!"

"Yeah, I love you," Draco said sleepily.

"And don't you forget it," Harry told him.

"Never," Draco whispered, reaching over for Harry and pulling him closer, snuggling into his side and falling into a contented sleep, knowing that he was finally safe.

~~**~~

A/N: It's officially over! review? :)


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